Sins of the Father
by Gryfforin
Summary: DM-HG When Lucius is arrested and supplies the Ministry with sensitive information, Draco is taken captive as a target for revenge. After Hermione rescues him during the final battle, Draco finds himself struggling to cope with a new found bond. COMPLETE!
1. Prologue The Beginning of the End

Disclaimer: All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion  
  
Author's Note: Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.  
  
Special Thanks: Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

* * *

Prologue - The Beginning of the End  
  
Hermione Granger poured out a serving of the potion as she eyed Draco lying in his bed across the room. She sighed, biting her lip as she wracked her brain again to find what could be the cause of his weakened state.  
  
As she crossed back over to his bed, sitting gently beside him, running a dampened cloth across his forehead, she observed the translucence of his skin. His face had thinned over the months to the point where he looked malnourished and nearing…  
  
No, she refused to consider that possibility. Draco was a young man. He had always kept himself up physically, playing Quidditch throughout his years at Hogwarts, and later taking a job with the Ministry. Though they worked as Unspeakables, Draco opted quite often to work on assignments alongside the Aurors, enjoying the opportunity to work outside the warded off section deep in the heart of the Ministry headquarters.  
  
The thought that he might fall victim to some curse or malady that neither she nor Severus could cure was unthinkable. So she continued to do the only thing left in her power. She would spend her days at the Ministry, hurriedly finishing her assigned tasks, before burying herself in the bowels of their library, seeking out every text referencing fatal curses and diseases. Her nights were spent at his bedside, carefully mopping his brow with a damp cloth, gently smoothing the damp hairs that clung to his forehead.  
  
Severus continued to brew new potions in the hope that they might find one that would at least slow the progression of whatever it was that was troubling Draco, but so far none had worked. As Hermione lifted the potion to his lips, urging him to swallow, while her other hand stroked his forehead offering him comfort, a part of her reveled in the intimacy that his weakened state afforded her.  
  
She had watched him transform over the past year, her feelings softening for the wizard that had once been her enemy as his façade fell. "So once again I find myself at the mercy of Nurse Granger," Draco sneered ineffectively. His weakened state had taken the zeal out of his every action.  
  
Hermione simply smiled as she looked down upon him, placing the cup that had held the potion on the nightstand next to the bed. "As I recall, it wasn't so bad last time. I only saved your life, after all," she continued, sitting back in her chair, her hand still stroking his hair. 


	2. Ch 1 The Sins of the Father

Disclaimer: All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion  
  
Author's Note: Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.  
  
Special Thanks: Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

* * *

Chapter One - The Sins of the Father  
  
The summer before Hermione's final year at Hogwarts, Death Eater activity had increased. Their actions grew bolder as Lord Voldemort's power increased with each passing day. The Order of the Phoenix was working overtime, trying to recruit additional support to minimize the impact the brewing war would have upon Muggle England.  
  
Upon Hermione's suggestion, the Order had moved its location to the Granger residence in Muggle London the year after Sirius's death. She had grown insistent that her parents relocate to Order Headquarters; concerned for their safety as Voldemort rallied support. When Sirius fell, ownership of Grimmauld Place defaulted to Narcissa Malfoy as the only remaining Black not being hunted by the Ministries Aurors. Hermione had little problem convincing Dumbledore to take residence at the Granger's, placing their home under the Fidelius Charm.  
  
Hermione's suspicions soon proved to be correct when Severus alerted the Order to Voldemort's latest plan to get to Harry Potter. It seemed as if he was convinced that the best way to get to Harry was through his loved ones.  
  
"After all, it worked so well with Sirius," Severus added coldly, his sneer reveling in the guilt his words brought to Harry's face.  
  
Unable to break through the magic protecting Harry's family, Voldemort had decided to target Harry's friends instead. The Weasley's were all put on alert, while Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that her family would be safe. Or so she thought.  
  
"Mum, it's just not safe for you," she had insisted one morning, shortly after Severus had reported his latest findings. "I realize that you don't fully understand the implications of this war, but you and dad have been identified as targets. It's because of who you are to me and my ties to Harry," Hermione added, her voice trembling as she considered the danger she had brought to her parents' lives.  
  
"Mionabelle," Elizabeth Granger sighed, calling her daughter by the childhood pet name as she tugged lovingly at Hermione's curls. "I know that you are concerned for our safety, but we Grangers are made of tough stock. I simply, no we -," she amended, her eyes falling lovingly on her husband across the room, "cannot live our lives in fear."  
  
Hermione swallowed her tears, burying her face in her mother's chest as she wrapped her arms around her waist. She knew that she would not convince her parents to close their practice, to remain virtual prisoners within their own home as a war ensued that they knew very little about.  
  
"I know mum. You taught me that as well, I'm just… I'm afraid."  
  
Elizabeth took her daughter's shoulders, pushing her lightly away from her body as she tilted her head until her shining eyes looked up into her own. "Que sera sera," she sung lightly, the song she had sung countless times as Hermione drifted off into a dreamless sleep.  
  
"Whatever will be, will be," Hermione answered, as she looked up into her mother's eyes. As she watched her parents leave the confines of the Order's new headquarters for the last time, she allowed a tear to fall from her eye before seeking out Mundungus.  
  
"What is it, little girl?" Mundungus snapped, coughing on the smoke from his pipe.  
  
Hermione tutted, pulling her wand out in a flourish and casting an extinguishing spell.  
  
"Why you little br…"  
  
Hermione didn't give him the chance to complete his thought. She needed his assistance and didn't have time to waste with trivial banter.  
  
"Look Dung," she started, her hands on her hips, eyes fixed on his. "I don't have time for this nonsense. My parents have insisted on going into work today despite my warnings."  
  
Mundungus coughed and grunted out a laugh in disgust. "It sounds like they have a death wish. So what does the little know-it-all suggest I do about it," he spat out, before lighting his pipe again, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke directly in her face.  
  
Fighting the desire to hex the petty thief before her, Hermione pulled her wand out again, opting instead to send a stream of water, once again extinguishing the pipe and ruining the tobacco inside.  
  
"What you're GOING to do is go down there and keep them safe," she insistedwith a satisfied smirk as he wiped his face and looked at his pipe incredulously. Not giving him the chance to question her further, she continued, "You know why you're going to do it? Because I am the 'know- it- all' that will put you under the Imperius Curse to make sure it happens," she finished, satisfied as she watched his expression blanch at her threat.  
  
"B-b-but, I'm to wait for…"  
  
"You have your instructions from me. I don't have time to wait for Dumbledore to return. They are in danger now," she finished emphatically, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally gathered his cloak and hat and Disapparated.  
  
Her eyes were glazed over, the drone in the courtroom deafening to her ears as Lucius was presented to the court for sentencing. He had been found guilty of illegal activities, including the murder of Hermione's parents.  
  
Despite the personal interest she should have taken in the case, she could not. It didn't matter. They were gone. Her mother's song still haunted her ears because it did not have to be. If only she had pleaded further, they might have agreed to stay home. Or, if she had simply cast the Imperius Charm on Mundungus rather than waste time reasoning with him, he might have been able to save them.  
  
He had managed to stun Lucius, bringing him into the Ministry's custody. That had been little consolation to Hermione, just as the verdict of guilty had been, as well as any sentence short of death would be. Although Minister Fudge had been removed from office, there were still plenty of others left who were for sale throughout the ranks of the government. Hermione knew from experience that Lucius Malfoy would not stay incarcerated for long.  
  
If at all possible, her summer ended under an even darker shadow than that of the murder of her parents. When she received her owl, announcing her position as Head Girl, any excitement that she would have felt was immediately washed away with the revelation that the Head Boy was none other than the son of the man who had killed her parents.  
  
The first week at school was horrible. Both as likely as the next to cast a hex upon one another; Draco in retaliation, believing it to be Hermione's fault that his father was imprisoned; Hermione in repentance for being unable to save her parents from their fate. Lucius was untouchable. However his son, continually spouting off hateful rhetoric and defending the bastard's every action, was a welcome substitute.  
The second week of the term, things got even worse. Lucius Malfoy, in a desperate attempt to save himself from execution began naming strategic locations and members of Voldemort's Death Eater squad. Draco consequently, was shunned by his house, no longer trusted, as the name of Malfoy had now become synonymous with traitor.  
  
At the end of the week, after a particular tumultuous meeting with the Headmaster and Heads of Houses, Hermione confronted him, having been frustrated at his undermining of every proposal she had put forth. Upon getting no explanation as to why he would neither offer ideas of his own, nor attempt to work with her, she snapped  
  
"What's the matter now, Malfoy? You were full of conversation in our meeting, yet now you have nothing to say? Perhaps you're too confused. Are you still a cold-blooded bastard, wanting nothing more than to rid the Wizarding World of Mudbloods? Or perhaps you are debating supporting the acceptance of Muggle-borns in an effort to lend strength to your father's pleas for mercy?"  
  
Anger flashed in Draco's silver eyes as he grabbed Hermione's neck, pinning her against the wall in the corridor.  
  
"I am not my father, you filthy Mudblood. Just because he has forgotten where his loyalties lie, does not mean that I have," he finished, before releasing her and sweeping down the corridor.  
  
Hermione avoided the stoic Head Boy for the remainder of the weekend. That confrontation had marked the first time she truly feared just how far Draco Malfoy might go if he were pushed. He had been shunned by his house and left to walk around stewing in his own anger. Her instincts told her that he was far from rational and could be dangerous.  
  
Sunday evening, following supper, Hermione set off to patrol the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest. It was a custom amongst many of the more troublesome older students to send the first years on missions to prove their willingness to bend the rules, the forest being a long favored target. One of Hermione's goals this year was to minimize the number of new students caught breaking the rules as a part of that ridiculous tradition. Unfortunately, as she looked out across the grounds, it appeared as if she might have been too late.  
  
_'I swear, they get more foolish with each year. I suppose they think the Headmaster's warnings about the Forbidden Forest are mere lip service,'_ Hermione thought, as she caught sight of three figures headed straight into the forest on the main path. She slowed as she got a better look at the figures. That silvery blond hair and school-issued robes were unmistakable. As she got even closer, she saw that his two companions were not accompanying him but rather dragging him towards the forest. That fact, combined with his pleas to be released let Hermione know that she needed to get a staff member fast.  
  
She began to run, her heart thumping as her feet carried her back towards the castle. Cursing herself silently for not considering casting some sort of alert that might bring aid to meet her; Hermione raised her wand in the air, casting red sparks as Hagrid had instructed her to use the first time she ventured into the forest during first year. As she saw the light from Hogwarts entrance flood onto the front staircase, and Hagrid's massive form step out, Hermione sank to the ground in exhaustion.  
  
Draco looked up into the masks of his captors as he felt his feet touch the ground, his stomach settling from the queasiness that travel by Portkey always left him.  
  
"Has the Dark Lord need of my services," he questioned, trying to contain the quavering he felt in his voice at the chance to prove his loyalty.  
  
Removing her mask, Bellatrix looked down upon the fair boy, her violet eyes boring through his own.  
  
"Foolish boy, our Master has no need for a traitor such as yourself. The sins of the father… you know," she cooed, patting his cheek lightly three times before turning to leave the room, her ebony mane swaying behind her back.  
  
Draco turned to his other captor, affixing his calm façade before speaking, "I am not my father you know? My allegiance still lies with the Dark Lord."  
  
He stood in silent anticipation as the tall masked figure slowly turned towards him. When Augustus Rookwood removed his mask Draco visibly shrank away from his icy glare.  
  
Rookwood laughed heartily, as if Draco had told an amusing anecdote over cocktails, before his eyes narrowed, an icy glare focused upon the boy.  
  
"Do you think that Lord Voldemort is concerned with your childish beliefs or alliances? You are here as Bellatrix explained, to atone for the transgressions of your father."  
  
Draco began to speak, wishing to convey that he himself would make his father pay for his treason, but Augustus cut him off.  
  
"Boy, no one is interested in anything that you have to say. I have fallen victim to the acts of a traitor and personally believe that all evidence of one who would defy the Dark Lord's existence should be eradicated. Their wives, mothers, sons and daughters should all pay for their folly."  
  
Draco watched as Augustus's face lightened, his mouth turning into a congenial smile.  
  
"I say this because I believe that one should understand one's predicament. I do not wish to listen to your pleas for mercy or a chance to prove your loyalty. I do hope that you will accept that I do not care. No one does. We intend to break you completely, killing you slowly day by day; sustaining you only enough that you wish for nothing more than your life to slip away from you. Only then, when you've lost the ability to even hope for your death, will we dispose of the last of your traitorous line."  
  
Refusing to show the panic that the Death Eater's words spoken with such a casual candor had instilled in him, Draco lifted his chin in defiance. That was the first time he heard the curse _"Crucio"_ directed towards him, though it would not be the last.  
  
Draco lost count after his third day. His time spent in the dungeons became a montage of torment and anguish. His captor's did not simply rely on magical curses and hexes, rather they relished in practicing Muggle tortures upon him. He became their personal pet; his body taken for any number of pleasures whether it was to be a target for which to aim their curses, or an orifice to release their aggressions.  
  
As Draco slid in and out of delirium, he came to recognize the scent of his captor's; unable to see through his eyes which remained bloody and swollen. Each individual's scent was like a pheromone, inducing a physical reaction in him. Bellatrix- arousal, as her favorite torment was to heighten him to a state of arousal, before cutting into his flesh, engraving the marks of a traitor into his flesh, leaving him unfulfilled and bleeding. Avery always elicited a mental detachment from his flesh, as he would purge himself of all guilt of his traitorous path by beating Draco with his hands. The pain, Draco had found, could be blocked out, if he were able to detach himself from his body. But the scent that caused Draco to hyperventilate in fear was that of Augustus Rookwood.  
  
Rookwood's position was that of his caretaker. He would enter daily, after the other's had used and abused Draco until he was lying in his own waste, unable to move. His voice always the same level of calm as he reminded Draco, "I told you this was to happen." He spoke almost gently, rubbing salves across Draco's open flesh and feeding potions into his system.  
  
"Why do you heal me," Draco would always ask, lulled into the false security of the man's seemingly kind actions. "Would it not be better to let me die," he questioned, always realizing too late that this was what the man had come for.  
  
The maniacal delight in his voice was always evident as he replied, "I heal you so that they can break you again. I told you this boy. If death is what you want, you can be assured that it will not come soon," he would finish, leaving only after he had carefully mended all of Draco's wounds in preparation for the next day.  
  
When the door opened again, the fresh cuts on Draco's flesh bleeding freely, he did not bother to attempt to catch the scent of his visitor. Only when the gasp of horror reached his ears did Draco lift his head from its resting place on the cold stone.  
  
The scent that greeted his nostrils was unfamiliar to him. This person simply smelled clean; no elaborate scents could be detected, no blood other than his own was traceable. No, this scent did not belong in this prison, it was the smell of someone pure.  
  
As he heard the soft murmurs of healing incantations begin, he recoiled from their wand.  
  
"Be still Malfoy," the quiet voice insisted. "I'm going to help you."  
  
Draco's mind became alert as the voice reached his ears, it was one that he knew although he could not place it. As he felt the effects of the healing spells close his wounds he let out a sob in exasperation.  
  
"Leave me," he begged, his mind spiraling in anguish as he thought of reliving his torment even one more day.  
  
Recognition flooded his senses as the voice responded, "I suppose that a Mudblood is not even worthy of healing you," she snapped, the animosity that had colored their relationship over the years dripping from every word.  
  
"You don't know, they'll only… again," he finished, unable to verbalize the horrors he had faced over the past weeks… months… years he had spent in captivity. Drawing his body into a tight ball upon the floor, Draco turned painfully so that his back was towards her.  
  
The hatred that had flared up within her when he had rejected her charms ebbed as she recognized the brokenness of the boy before her.  
  
"Draco, Dumbledore is here. The majority of the Death Eaters have been killed and Harry and Snape have gone to face Voldemort."  
  
Ripping a length of cloth from her robes, Hermione cast a spell to dampen it, mopping his face caked with blood and dirt as she assured him that their Potions Master was indeed working for the Order and would not betray them.  
  
Draco stilled as Hermione proceeded to clean his skin of the muck and mire that had collected since his first night of capture. As she cleansed his skin, healing each cut and bruise as they were revealed to her, he had his first glimpse of something that Rookwood had promised would be lost to him forever - hope.  
  
He had since given up on hoping for death, understanding that his simple death would not satisfy the thirst for retribution of Voldemort and his followers. Any hope for rescue had disappeared with the first kiss of Bellatrix's knife.  
  
"Is it, is it really over," he asked uncertainly, welcoming the comfort of Hermione's lap as she moved his head to rest upon it.  
  
"Voldemort has not yet been defeated," Hermione admitted carefully, not wanting to dash Draco's hopes, "however, with the defeat of the Death Eaters I am confident that your imprisonment is," she finished softly, the damp cloth replaced by her hand raking his hair back from his forehead.  
  
Hermione had stayed, offering him the first humane touch in months and reflecting on her life since she had joined the Wizarding World. Despite all the wonderment and joy she had experienced at finding a place where she truly belonged, she couldn't help but ask 'had it all been worth it?' She had seen friends and family fall at the hands of Voldemort. And now, her two best friends were facing the man who had been responsible for it all.  
  
When she heard Harry's scream echo throughout the camp she pushed from her mind the possibility that the worse had occurred. Absently cradling Draco's head to her chest, more for her comfort than his, she murmured repeatedly, "He's going to be all right."  
  
As it turned out, Harry was all right, although the deadly curse that he cast nearly cost him his life along side the menace that had plagued the world. It had taken them years to find out what had stood Harry apart from the rest of Voldemort's victims but Dumbledore had finally managed to begin to sort through the Dark Magic coursing through Harry's scar.  
  
It had turned out that Voldemort had injected his humanity within Harry; that was why he had never died. While he had intended to simply contaminate Harry before disposing of him, the curse did not act as intended, rather affording Harry certain protections against any curse coming from Voldemort.  
  
In an act of desperation, as Harry found that he could not kill Voldemort by his wand either; he finally turned the wand upon his scar, casting the Killing Curse, destroying the last remaining humanity there was of Voldemort.  
  
When Harry fell, screaming in agony, Ron and Severus quickly turned on the shell of a man before them, casting _Avada Kedavra_ in desperation, finally sending the man, once known as Tom Riddle, to his death. 


	3. Ch 2 Awakenings

Disclaimer: All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion  
  
Author's Note: Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.  
  
Special Thanks: Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

* * *

Chapter Two - Awakenings  
  
Once the battle had ended, and everyone had been transported back to Hogwarts, Hermione, along with Ron, set to keep vigil beside Harry's bed. One or the other had sat with him around the clock the first week, refusing to leave him alone. Professor McGonagall decided to be tolerant of their devotion to the young hero, knowing that it would be pointless to argue with them. Her only contingency was that they keep up with their assignments.  
  
To no one's surprise, after one week, Ron was behind and, under duress, agreed to return to his classes. Hermione however, remained by Harry's side around the clock. Completing her revisions and essays in the hospital ward, only breaking for a few hours after dinner to brew any necessary potions, return or check out reference materials, and meet with the prefects.  
  
Ron was worried about her; he didn't know when she took the time to rest; her eyes always looking glazed over yet wide open. He didn't know that Hermione could not sleep. Her dreams had been haunted for a while and she had begun taking the occasional wakefulness potion following her parents' deaths. But now, after being present at the raid of the Death Eaters' camp, seeing the horrors first hand that they had committed, even against their own, she refused to close her eyes whenever possible, not willing to submit again to the dreams. The echo of Harry's screams, they were all too much to bear, and so she didn't.  
  
The nights that she spent alone in the hospital wing, she sat next to Harry's bed weeping. He had not woken and Severus's attempts to reach him through Legilimency were not promising. For once, she was at a loss for what to do. She hadn't been able to save her parents, and she had known what needed to be done then, how could she help her best friend. And so she wept, crying aloud, asking the gods why they only saw fit to take what was good from this world.  
  
"In all these years, of all those I've tried to protect, I've only been able to save Malfoy," she spat in frustration.  
  
Continuing in her questioning of the fates, Hermione didn't hear the other boy's breath catch, or his breathing increase. In fact, she hadn't noticed him at all for weeks, her only concern for Harry.  
  
"He's awake, dearie?"  
  
Hermione's breath caught at the sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice and she moved the back of her hand to wipe away her tears, looking over to Harry anxiously, _'Had he awoken and she been too engrossed in her own sorrow to notice?'_ Turning to look, Hermione was disappointed to see that his chest continued to rise and fall slowly.  
  
As Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room past Harry's bed, Hermione felt as if someone had stepped on her chest. _'Of course he would be the one to heal,'_ she thought, resentment coursing through her veins. Turning back to Harry, Hermione knelt beside the bed, laying her head next to his as she whispered, "I'm sorry Harry. You are my best friend. I should have been with you instead of comforting him."  
  
Kissing his temple lightly, she allowed the silent tears to fall freely as she watched her best friend. She had begged to stay by his side, but alas, her two best friends would not hear of her being in the center of danger. They masked their chivalry with the argument that it would do no good for everyone to face Voldemort. Hermione had finally acquiesced when Professor Snape rationalized that she was the only one present, aside from Dumbledore and himself, to tend to any injuries. Though his voice was condescending, Hermione knew that he was correct.  
  
And so, as her friends charged off into battle, Hermione followed behind, checking as each room was cleared, her task to take care of any fallen Order members or prisoners that might be found. Draco had been blessed by fate. All other prisoners within the Death Eater camp had been killed in the crossfire of curses thrown in the siege. The only reason his life had been spared was because he had been left untended.  
  
Hermione was shaken from her thoughts as she looked up through tear-stricken eyes at the kindly old witch who had placed a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"I know that you care for your friend, but there is nothing that we can do for him at this time. Albus has insisted that I allow you to stay here until he says otherwise, but I must insist that you make yourself useful. Stewing in your grief will do nothing to help anyone."  
  
Taken aback by the stern words of Madam Pomfrey, the Head Girl rose to her feet, wiping her tears from her face and placing her hands on her hips defensively.  
  
"Useful? _Useful?_" she questioned. "I would give anything to help him. How dare you suggest that I am doing nothing? I am doing the only thing I know to do for him and that is to stay at his side," she sobbed angrily, the resentment at feeling helpless having a living, breathing target for her rage.  
  
Madam Pomfrey turned, ignoring Hermione's outburst as she strode out of the hospital wing, returning only when the young witch did not follow of her own volition. Sighing, Hermione placed a last kiss on her friend's forehead before following the nurse into her office.  
  
"I will excuse you that outburst because I know how deeply you have come to care for Harry over the past years. Please realize that if it happens again, I will be forced to override the Headmaster's decision. The patients in this ward need a peaceful environment in which to recover from their maladies."  
  
Hermione's eyes shone as she looked up at Madam Pomfrey apologetically. She opened her mouth to present her apology, but the words could not overcome the lump in her throat.  
  
"Shhh, my dear, I know that you did not intend to cause problems. But this is precisely why I must insist that you begin to help me treat the other patients. Hermione, Harry has done a tremendous thing for us all. But his fate is now out of our hands. He knows that you are here with him, but he would not desire to see you wasting away at his side."  
  
Madam Pomfrey smiled as she noted the slight bow of Hermione's head. "Very good," she smiled as she pulled the young witch into an embrace. "I would like for you to tend to the young Malfoy. His physical ailments are severe but quite treatable. I am concerned however as to his mental state. I think that you will be surprised to find that he is not the same young man that was taken from us months ago."  
  
She had wanted to argue. She could feel her stomach retch at the thought of once again aiding the son of her parents' killer, but she did not have the energy left to argue. And so, Hermione begrudgingly accepted the charge given to her and set out to figure out what was troubling Draco Malfoy.  
  
It had been two weeks since Hermione had begun tending to Draco Malfoy. She reluctantly acknowledged Madam Pomfrey's assessment that he had changed during his two months in captivity. He had always had a quiet nature about him when not lashing out at others or putting on a show of his status for his housemates. But the quiet that he now demonstrated was different. His eyes were haunted and, though he had not flinched from her touch since she discovered him during the final battle, she could still sense the fear about him.  
  
After the first couple of days of tending to Draco, she discovered why Pomfrey had been so insistent that she care for him. As it turned out, hers was the only touch that he would accept and she often had to administer potions and charms to him under the observation of the Matron.  
  
The anger she felt toward him slowly ebbed as she found it being replaced by pity. Although she had observed first-hand the wounds that had been inflicted upon the young wizard, she could not imagine what atrocities he had undergone to break his spirit so.  
  
"All right, Malfoy, I don't know what they did to you, but it's time that we snap you out of this," she began one evening, after returning from meeting with the Head of Slytherin House. He had been speaking with Madam Pomfrey ever since his prized student's return to the castle, trying to ascertain what was wrong with him, before she had finally conceded that she didn't know what was troubling Draco.  
  
Mumbling about the Matron's incompetence, Professor Snape had stormed into the hospital wing, despite her protests, to check on Draco's condition himself. As he neared the bed, his typically stony face fell when the blond-haired wizard recoiled at his approach. Hermione had leaned in close, whispering softly to Draco, placing her hand on his arm to reassure him of her presence before looking up at Professor Snape and inclining her head, inviting him to remove himself from the hospital wing.  
  
Draco never cried out or hollered. He hadn't uttered a word, in fact, since their return to Hogwarts, but his distress was evident. His body curled into itself on the farthest side of the bed from the offending observer and his eyes clenched shut. After about fifteen minutes, once Hermione observed that his breathing had regulated itself and his body had relaxed enough for her to coax him to stretch back out in the bed, she rose and headed to Madam Pomfrey's office.  
  
"What was the meaning of that," she asked, turning angrily to the Potions Master who was seated, his face devoid of the sneer that she had come to expect since her first year.  
  
When her question went unanswered, she turned to Madam Pomfrey, "I thought that we had both agreed that if I were to try and assist you with Malfoy, he would be left to my care unless there was a potion or other treatment that required your supervision. You and I both know that he has not responded to anyone favorably since his return to Hogwarts."  
  
Hermione looked at the Matron with understanding as she caught the look she gave to Professor Snape who sat dumb-founded. Of course he would not have accepted her warnings or protests when it came to seeing the favored Slytherin.  
  
"Professor Snape, I can assure you that I did not choose to be the only one that Draco could tolerate in his presence. But as I am, I think it would be best if you arrange to speak with me before deciding to impose yourself upon us."  
  
As the young witch addressed him, his head snapped up, and the icy veneer returned to his face. "And just what would lead you to believe that Draco Malfoy desires your presence any more than he does mine?"  
  
Her anger rose as she turned to face her Professor. "I don't know why he desires my presence or even that he does. What I do know is that he wouldn't eat until I fed him; that he would not sleep soundly, until I sat with him; and that he will likely hurt himself fleeing from anyone else who dares approach him. I did not ask to tend to Malfoy, but as I have agreed, I will not allow anyone to interfere in a manner that will be detrimental to his recovery."  
  
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips as she observed the staring match that followed, her colleague glaring down upon the young witch who refused to look away. She had never seen anyone, colleague nor student, confront Professor Snape in that manner and had no idea of what to expect.  
  
"Very well," the Potions Master relented. "Given your history, I do not imagine that you would choose to spend day and night with Draco if there were another alternative. As his Head of House, however, I must insist that you meet with me on a regular basis to keep me abreast of his progress."  
  
Hermione nodded, her body relaxing as the stand-off came to an end. "I think that would be an excellent idea; I would be very interested in discussing possible alternative treatments to try and break through whatever mental barrier he has put up. Although he does not appear to feel threatened by my presence, I cannot seem to pull him out of himself either."  
  
Professor Snape had actually provided some very useful insight. She had attempted to reach Draco by discussing the things they held in common; the goings- on of the castle, the latest troubles that she had addressed with the prefects; she had even attempted to bring him out of it by recounting Ron's latest tales of Potions class. Neville was failing miserably without her there to aid him, apparently. It was truly amazing that he had even made it into N.E.W.T.-level potions. And Ron, well he seemed to be spending most of his evenings with Professor Snape.  
  
But Snape had suggested a different approach. Whatever reason Draco appeared to be comforted by her presence did not negate the years of animosity that they had shared. He had supposed that as she was the first to discover him, and Draco knew her to be good and honest, his subconscious, as a matter of survival, had decided that she was safe. The problem was that they were now trying to reach his conscious self and perhaps she should not sugar-coat her dealings with him.  
  
"All right, Malfoy, I'm quite tired of taking up your slack. I've had to deal with every issue from a prefect since you disappeared, and let me assure you, your housemates are only slightly more pleasant to deal with than yourself."  
  
Even as the words left her mouth, Hermione wished she could take them back. She was tired of performing the duty of both Head Boy and Head Girl but he had had little to do with his kidnapping.  
  
She sighed and rose from her seat. While Professor Snape's suggested methods might work for Slytherin House, she was decidedly a Gryffindor and didn't wish to sink to their level. Looking at the time, Hermione decided that now was as good a time as any to go and sit with Harry. Although the majority of her day was now spent tending to Draco, she still made sure she spent at least a couple of hours at Harry's bedside.  
  
When Madam Pomfrey peeked her head into the hospital wing to indicate that she had been called down to the dungeons to tend to a student, Hermione assured her that she would notify her if anyone showed up. Sighing as the Matron left, Hermione cast a charm on Harry's cot, causing it to double in size, and laid down next to him.  
  
This was the only way she had come to sleep over the past couple of weeks; always sneaking out of her designated cot to lay next to her best friend. So it was of little surprise that Hermione dozed off as she whispered, to Harry, promises of the new life that awaited them all if he would just come back.  
  
Her dreams, as she lay with Harry, were always pleasant. They were always unselfish thoughts of visiting him and Ron next year at their shared flat after they graduated; Harry smiling and truly happy for the first time since she'd known him, free from his obligation to humanity as well as from the family that he had been forced to live with. The dreams brought her such joy, to see the three of them enjoying life from under the dark cloud of Voldemort, that she always awoke reluctantly, responding only because she knew the charm she had set up in the hallway leading to the hospital wing was warning her that someone was approaching. As accommodating as the Headmaster had been, she did not think even he would allow for his students to share a bed so openly.  
  
As she opened her eyes and rose, returning the bed to its original state, Hermione reached for her wand to end the charm that caused a low hum in the room. Although it was not loud enough to worry anyone outside of the ward, it was certainly noticeable and she did not wish for anyone to go seeking out the source of the sound. As she grasped her wand, her head fell to the side and she strained her ears. Oddly enough, the charm had not gone off but yet she had awoken.  
  
She checked the time and not even twenty minutes had passed; it certainly was not long enough for her to have woken on her own. She walked out towards Madam Pomfrey's office to see if perhaps some other disturbance had roused her from her sleep, but there was no one near the hospital ward.  
  
Convinced that perhaps her nerves simply would not allow her to rest properly, she walked back into the hospital wing. As she walked over to grab the study notes that Padma had provided her from Arithmancy, she let out a squeak as the light shone off of his eyes. Draco Malfoy was staring at her. His face still held the blank stare she had become familiar with, but behind his eyes there was something else.  
  
Walking over, she sat on the side of his bed. "Malfoy," she questioned tentatively. He didn't respond, but she decided to continue, somewhat hopeful that the emptiness from his eyes had been replaced by something, though she wasn't quite sure what. "I was just about to begin my Arithmancy assignment. Professor Vector has been covering how emotion and intent can alter the efficacy of magic spells…" her voice trailed off as the silver eyes clouded over and once again returned to gaze at the ceiling overhead.  
  
Hermione carried on her duties throughout the next week, continuing to administer Draco's treatment throughout the day as well as spend time working on her assignments. Much of her reading she would do aloud, hoping that her voice would stimulate the same shadow of existence she had caught in his eye after waking last week. But, much to her dismay, he showed no response, staring blankly at the ceiling above.  
  
By the sixth week since Harry and Draco had been brought back to the Hogwarts hospital wing, Hermione was thoroughly frustrated with the task that had been presented to her.  
  
"Surely the great know-it-all, Hermione Granger, has managed to find what is wrong with the boy," the Potions Master had sneered at her at their last meeting, not concealing his frustration that he was unable to tend to his student; yet, the one who could, had not made any progress. "Undoubtedly, you are neglecting his condition in favor of fawning over the half-dead body of Mr. Potter."  
  
Unable to contain her rage, Hermione stood to excuse herself from his presence. As she opened the door to return to the sanctity of the warded off hospital wing, she thought better of it and turned to address Professor Snape.  
  
"Undoubtedly, you are incorrect in your accusation, however, I can't help but wonder whether or not my time would be better spent tending to Harry. After all, your precious Malfoy is conscious; for all I know, he could be unwilling to lower himself to address a Mudblood, and too damn stupid to talk to anyone else. Harry, on the other hand, actually needs to know that someone is here for him."  
  
Having heard quite enough from the Head of Slytherin House, and having nothing more to say, she slammed the door before going to sit with Harry.  
  
Not bothering to pull up a chair, Hermione drew her wand and enlarged the bed slightly so that she could sit next to him without causing a disturbance.  
  
"Harry," she whispered softly, bending over to kiss his cheek. "You have to come back to us. Ron, Ginny, all of Gryffindor, we miss you."  
  
Letting her head fall to his chest, Hermione allowed herself to weep, blocking out the nagging voice in her head that reminded her that her duties were to watch over Malfoy.  
  
Hermione had curled her feet up beneath her and fallen asleep on Harry's chest like that. She startled as her eyes opened to find the room barely lit by the setting sun from outside the hospital wing's windows and drew her wand to light the candles in the room. Sighing as she felt the urge to check on Draco, Hermione turned to look at the boy, nearly screaming as his silver eyes danced with the light of the sconces as he looked at her.  
  
"Draco Malfoy, I know you're in there. Are you enjoying being spoiled too much? You like the idea of a filthy Mudblood tending to your needs, I'm sure," she spat out, frustrated to no end that he would not respond.  
  
Yawning, Draco smirked. "I would hardly call being read the lecture notes from Professor Binn's History of Magic class an indulgence, Granger."  
  
Fighting to command her jaw to close, Hermione sat down on Harry's still enlarged bed. "So the great Draco Malfoy has decided to grace us with his presence has he?" The self satisfied look that Hermione had set on her face faded as Draco's eyes seemed to dull. "Oh no Malfoy, not again, your Head of House has been absolutely dreadful and I will not allow you to slip back to wherever you have been for the past six weeks before you speak with him."  
  
Draco looked up at her, his face definitely animated, but this time it was with fear. His eyes showed the same reaction that his body had each time someone other than herself had tried to approach him. Hermione had seen that whatever he had suffered had been bad, but she couldn't imagine just what they could have done to this once intense yet harsh young man, to leave him broken to the point of begging to be left for dead and flinching at the slightest indication of another human presence. _'Except mine,'_ she reminded herself silently.  
  
"It's okay Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey has made it clear that no one will be permitted to see you until you are ready." Draco calmed at that, although the fit that Professor Snape threw the following day more than made up for the boy's short tantrum.  
  
"How dare you? He is of my own House. It is my obligation to ensure that the boy is all right."  
  
The Matron did not back down one inch. "Be that as it may, Severus, ALL of the students of this school are under my charge and I will not have you interfering in my treatment unless the Headmaster himself orders it. And I will have you know, that Albus has given his full support that Hermione, here, supervise his treatment ALONE except in extreme cases."  
  
Hermione continued on, as Madam Pomfrey indicated that she should. Draco's physical wounds had long since healed; it was his mental and emotional state that was disconcerting. He had not shown any semblance of the snide and arrogant youth that he once was since Hermione had alluded to his eventual meeting with Professor Snape. Surprisingly, she found that Draco Malfoy, without his cutting remarks and sly commentary, was worse than every hateful remark he had ever given.

* * *

Review Responses:  
  
HGDM lova: I'm glad that you're loving it. All of the chapters are somewhere around 3000 words save the prologue and epilogue. This fic has been completed and the first few chapters beta'ed. I'm working on getting the rest of the fic beta'ed before I post them here.  
  
artemis1860: I'm glad that you're enjoying it. As I stated to HGDM lova, the fic is complete, I'm just trying to get it all beta'ed before posting it here. Updates should come rather quickly!   



	4. Ch 3 New Allies and Old Enemies

**Disclaimer: **All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion  
  
**Author's Note:** Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.  
  
**Special Thanks:** Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

* * *

Chapter Three - New Allies and Old Enemies  
  
In the two weeks leading up to the Yule Holidays, Hermione and Draco fell into a comfortable routine. In her meetings with Professors Dumbledore and Snape they had both agreed that, while he might not be ready to rejoin the rest of the school, it was in his best interest that they return him to some semblance of normalcy as soon as possible.  
  
Their shared schedule, which had once seemed to be a curse for the both of them, now proved to be a blessing for Draco. The Headmaster had made arrangements for all of Draco's professors to formulate exams to test the material that they had covered during the fall term. Professor Snape had been insistent in arguing that Draco should be given every opportunity to graduate with the rest of his class at the end of the term and Professor Dumbledore had agreed.  
  
Hermione had been flustered when she had been informed that she would need to tutor Draco in the material that he had missed since the second week of the term when he had been abducted. Yet, he had surprised her when they began revising. She had assumed, throughout the years, that Draco had been as successful in school as he had, largely due to his name. But, as she began to review first the Charms work, figuring that the work was fairly intuitive and simple, and then moved onto History of Magic, she found that she had greatly underestimated his intellect.  
  
Draco Malfoy had an incredibly keen sense of recall. Hermione found that once she introduced a new concept to him, she never had to revisit it. His ability to apply the theory he had learned was also impressive. Hermione found that they were able to cover the majority of the material from the fall term before the Yule Holidays. Draco would spend much of the day reviewing the texts, while Hermione would either sit with Harry or do her own classwork. In the evenings, they would sit together, reviewing Hermione's old assignments or discussing the material and how it was practically applied. The review sessions proved to be mutually beneficial as they reinforced the information that Draco was learning while affording Hermione the opportunity to review the material, making sure that her understanding was concrete. She was surprised to find that her time spent with him could even be considered somewhat enjoyable.  
  
He had proven to be much more intellectual than she had given him credit for, demonstrating that, while he had not spent his days locked away in a corner of the library or anxiously answering every question posed to the class, he could still hold his own. In fact, though she loathed admitting it, Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that had he chosen to spend his years at Hogwarts in the same manner that she had, she might not have such a firm holding as the top student in her class.  
  
What had been truly refreshing to see, however, were signs of the old Draco. They still referred to each other using their surnames, that had never changed, yet his temperament was softer. Gradually, though, as they continued to review the coursework that he had missed, a fire arose in him. This one was acceptable; it didn't come with insults or slurs attached, just a passionate defense of his opinions.  
  
History of Magic was a subject that often brought rigorous debate between the two. Draco, a product of an elitist, pureblooded upbringing, often did not see eye to eye with Hermione as they would discuss the social atmosphere in relationship to different historical events.  
  
It was on the eve of Yule that they became engaged in a particularly heated debate over what led to the Goblin Rebellion of 1612.  
  
"Malfoy, you are impossible. You dare call the Goblins actions savage and reprehensible," Hermione questioned, her fists clenched at her side as she tried to contain her frustration at Draco's extremely small-minded view of the events that took place in the rebellion.  
  
"Savage, reprehensible, barbaric…" he drawled, before turning to her and arching an eyebrow. "Shall I continue?"  
  
"I cannot believe that you can sit here and say that with a good conscience. What would you do if…"  
  
"Calm down, Granger. I agree; the way in which the Goblins were treated was reprehensible, yet, that does not excuse the massacre that they reveled in under the guise of rebellion."  
  
"Draco," Hermione said, straining to keep his composure. "Honestly. How would you react if your life was not your own? You had no home to call your own. No say in any facet of your life, not even that of the lives of your children?"  
  
Draco opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted from the other side of the room, "I imagine that even Malfoy, here, might go savage," a hoarse voice whispered.  
  
Forgetting their debate, Hermione sprang up from the bed and crossed the room. "Harry, oh my god, you're awake," she said, throwing herself across his chest as tears spilled from her eyes.  
  
Harry chuckled weakly, groaning as he brushed Hermione's curls out of his mouth. "It's nice to know I was missed but I'd hate to survive Voldemort only to die suffocated beneath my best friend's hair."  
  
Hermione smiled, wiping away the tears in her eyes. "Oh Harry, I'm sorry, it's just we were so worried," she said, biting her lip as she resisted the urge to throw herself on him again.  
  
"I missed you too, 'Mione," Harry smiled at his friend before turning his head to the side. "Although, it looks like you've been keeping some… interesting, for lack of a better word, company. Where's Ron?"  
  
"He's going to be livid, but his mum insisted that he and Ginny come home for Hols as they weren't allowed in to visit," Hermione paused, as she turned tentatively to Malfoy before looking back at Harry. "She didn't want them moping around. He wanted to…"  
  
Harry's shoulders fell a little, but he continued smiling. "That's all right. You'll just have to owl him and tell him to get his sorry arse back here straight away. So what's the git…" Harry started, looking at Malfoy before trailing off as he met Hermione's warning gaze.  
  
Glancing at Malfoy, Hermione felt somewhat afraid that he would crawl back into the shell that he'd just so recently shed, but was met instead with a surprising fire, one that clearly still viewed Harry as a rival of sorts. Sighing, Hermione launched into an explanation of coming across Draco in the final battle; surprising herself as she emphasized the atrocities he'd seen in an effort to inspire a truce of some sort between the two.  
  
Harry looked over at Malfoy, studying him as if looking for a sign of proof before speaking, "So, I take it that you've given up on an illustrious career in murder and mayhem?"  
  
Ignoring Hermione's huff of protest, Harry continued, "Look Malfoy, I'm truly sorry for what you've gone through, if Hermione's accounting is accurate. But I won't lie, if that's what it took for you to realize what a monster Voldemort is, I'm glad," Harry paused momentarily before adding somberly, "both for what you endured and the fact that you survived."  
  
The atmosphere was filled with tension as the severity of Harry's words hung in the air. Hermione looked back at Draco. The urge to shield him from the ugly truth in what her friend had said was almost unbearable.  
  
As she turned, with narrowed eyes, to scold her friend, Draco's calm voice surprised her. With a muttered, "Likewise, Potter," Draco managed to follow Harry's lead in putting seven years of hate behind them.  
  
The morning of Yule was truly a joyous occasion. While the gift exchange was not a part of the morning's celebration, Hermione ensured that any present she might receive were sent to her room to be opened in private as no one had expected Harry's recovery or imagined that Draco would receive anything. The two Gryffindors were more than satisfied with spending the day in each other's company.  
  
Madam Pomfrey had indicated to Hermione that Harry was welcome to stay in the cordoned off section of the hospital wing to rest as Malfoy appeared to have become acclimated to his presence. And so the two happily sat around chatting, Hermione anxious to fill him in on what he'd missed, namely, Luna finally managing to pin Ron down. Harry laughed heartily at the idea of 'Ron falling victim to the lunacy that is Lovegood,' ignoring Hermione's chastising when it came to talking about the younger witch.  
  
Having forgotten about the other party in the room, both turned their heads sharply as a too familiar drawl sounded. "I don't know, I think it makes sense. It will be nice for Weasley to finally associate with a female he can keep mental pace with. Merlin knows he couldn't keep up with you," he smirked, as he winked at Hermione, his features gentling into a smile.  
  
"Well, call me a Slytherin, but I do believe that Malfoy here has managed to make a joke, without malice even," Harry grinned, as he and Hermione erupted in a fit of hysteria.  
  
Draco reclaimed his perfected smirk, though his eyes betrayed it with laughter as he replied, "The day anyone calls you Slytherin, is the day that Father Christmas invokes the spirit of Grindelwald."  
  
The rest of the morning was spent in lighthearted banter. Draco, behaving more like himself than Hermione had seen thus far. She was truly amazed that, despite their troubled past, it took Harry to bring him out of his self-imprisonment. Far more amazing was the fact that the two seemed to be getting along fairly well.  
  
No, they weren't behaving remotely as friends. In fact, to the untrained observer, they might have appeared to be acting just as they had at the start of term, seizing every opportunity to bait the other. But Hermione knew better; Harry's body language was relaxed, his fists unfurled- very unlike other confrontations between him and the Slytherin, where she, often times, had to physically restrain him. And Draco -, she couldn't put her finger on it but she could feel it. There was a sense of calm about him as well, one that she had never seen before; no, something had definitely changed.  
  
Although they were unable to join the others who had remained at Hogwarts over the Holidays for the feast, the house-elves spared no detail in what was sent to the hospital wing. Hermione didn't notice Draco's momentary silence as they Apparated and Disapparated with the food and decorations, but was relieved when Harry was able to extend a verbal assault and coax a reaction out of him, pulling him back to the present.  
  
The verbal warfare at the table extended well past the end of the meal. Hermione shook her head as she compared each offensive to one of Ron's beloved chess pieces; animated to deliver very convincing damage, but ultimately harmless.  
  
Laughing as she opened the window to intercept an owl, she commented dryly, "Perhaps I should ask Professor McGonagall about becoming an Animagus with the form of an owl. Obviously that's what it takes to get you two to shut up."  
  
"Who's it for, 'Mione," Harry asked, as he stood to walk over to where she was unfastening a parcel.  
  
"It's for me," Draco replied stoically, recognizing his father's owl.  
  
Hermione instinctively moved to cross the room towards him but froze as he stood to meet her. It was the first time, since they had returned to Hogwarts, he had left his bed for a reason other than to relieve himself. He had even taken to cleansing himself magically over showering and changing.  
  
Too stunned to do otherwise, Hermione allowed him to retrieve the parcel from her lax grip as he crossed to the far side of the hospital wing and sat on an empty bed. Looking up at Harry as he shrugged his shoulders, Hermione mentally chastised herself. _'Did you think he would stay in bed forever,'_ she asked herself as she considered Harry's enquiry as to what the package could be. Contemplating which one of his dorm mates might have sent the package, Hermione turned suddenly towards Draco.  
  
Startled by her sudden movement, Harry cast Hermione a questioning glance before following her eyes.  
  
"What's wrong with him, 'Mione," he asked, startled by the pale wizard sitting rigidly upon the bed. He was holding a small jewelry box. "What's in the box, Malfoy?" Harry asked, walking over to stand behind him, accepting the box as Draco wordlessly held it up.  
  
Hermione joined the two wizards on the other side of the room and peered inside of the box. Lying on a bed of red velvet was a pair of cuff links surrounded by three ribbons. The ribbons were the most delicate pieces of cloth that she'd ever seen. They were the color of emeralds- a brilliant green, with a luminescence running through them. Upon closer examination, flecks of white-gold cloth could be seen woven through the fine satin material.  
  
Hermione reached in to straighten one of the cuff links that was turned on its side. She snatched her hand back as movement caught her eye. Slithering from one ribbon to the next was an enchanted silver serpent, no - basilisk she noted on closer examination. It was an understated accent to the ribbons, as they were quite thin themselves, but noticeable once the light hit the flecks of emerald used to demarcate their eyes.  
  
Harry removed a cuff link after noting Hermione's hesitation. A deep green lacquer covered the golden accoutrement, small accent diamonds completing the 'M' monogram in the center. Looking down at Malfoy, realization dawning in his eyes, Harry laid his hand on the boys shoulder and spoke softly, "I'm sorry Malfoy."  
  
At the sound of Harry's voice, Draco coughed his disbelief. "I'm quite convinced that you feel that my father's death will be a great loss to society, Potter," he drawled. He flinched as Hermione sat next to him and replaced Harry's hand with her own. "It might be hard for you to believe, but I'm not sorry to see him dead. His years spent in servitude to that lunatic, the constant pressuring that I follow in his footsteps, I resented that all of my life. But the one thing I always admired about my father was his power; his confidence and strength. To see him cower before an idiot like Fudge and openly betray all that he had ever taught me, that is when he ceased to be my father.  
  
"Do you know, when I was first captured, I still held on to the lessons that my father had taught me through the years. I can't say that I hated him, but I was prepared to do whatever the Dark…" he started before correcting himself, "Voldemort asked of me, even if it meant killing my own father.  
  
"It wasn't until Rookwood explained to me how inconsequential I was to Voldemort that I hated my father. He involved my mother and me in something so perverse, something that cared little of intentions or loyalties against our own will; and, in a singular act of desperation, showed how little he valued either of our lives. He had to have known it would come to this…"  
  
"Draco, what do you mean?" Hermione enquired. "Voldemort is dead, whatever happened to your parents…"  
  
Draco snapped at her, his eyes full of fire, "Do use your head, Granger. No battle ends cleanly. Every sympathizer with the losing side would have to be wiped from the face of the earth in order for that to happen. Augustus Rookwood survived the final battle, didn't he?"  
  
Hermione's mouth gaped as she looked up at him. "We… we couldn't find his body. But, how did you know?"  
  
"Because, Hermione," he began, "he is the one who sent me this present. I can smell his stench upon my mother's prized ribbons." Draco's face struggled to maintain his composure as the memory of his mother, sitting in her quarters while the house-elves braided the ribbons in amongst her fine hair, flashed before his eyes.  
  
"But…Gods, Draco- I mean, I know they were your parents, but they betrayed him. It can't be easy, but at least it is over."  
  
Draco fingered the locks of hair that he had removed from the box before handing it to Harry. "It's far from over," he stated softly. "This is a charm that my mother had fashioned when I was born. It was to afford me certain protections so long as it remained at the place of my birth."  
  
Hermione tentatively reached for the charm, examining it carefully when he surrendered it to her outstretched hand. It was a cluster of about fifty hairs. They were very fine and fair, much as she imagined his hair had been at birth. Clasping the hairs together was an intricate braid of different herbal flowers, peels, and root shavings that had been bound together and preserved with magic.  
  
As if answering the question that was running through her mind, Malfoy began to identify each ingredient that went into the charm. "Bergamot peel, to preserve the Malfoy Beauty; Chamomile, aids in maintaining ones composure; Damania, ensures that one recalls the privilege of carrying the Malfoy name."  
  
Harry stifled a cough, but Hermione and Draco's attention remained affixed on the item. "Garlic, to ensure good health; Ginseng, because a Malfoy must always be alert and prepared; Dandelion, to ensure that the blood remains pure; all banded around a thin sprig of oak, to carry on the strength of the Malfoy line."  
  
Harry considered the charm's meaning, noting Draco's darkening eyes. "Okay Malfoy, so your mother's charm is no longer effective as it has been removed from the Manor. But that's just a protective charm, right? So long as you're in good health and here at Hogwarts, you'll be fine. Now that Voldemort is gone, the Ministry is bound to round up the last of his followers."  
  
"Potter," Draco responded exasperatedly, "You have no idea how far- reaching Voldemort's arm was. They will not stop until they feel that my father's sins have been atoned for, not until the last of his seed has fallen."  
  
Hermione shook her head, "No Draco, Harry's right," she countered, passing the lock of hair back to Draco. "You'll be safe here until graduation, at least. And, in all likelihood, the last of the Death Eaters will be rounded up by then."  
  
Draco silently nodded, not wishing to fight the calculable optimism of the two Gryffindors. Though he willed his face to relax and convey his acceptance of their reasoning, his eyes remained dark as Rookwood's words resonated in his mind, _the sins of the father_.

* * *

Review Responses:  
  
Artemis1860: ask and ye shall receive :) Chapters 5 and 6 are out to beta now, so hopefully I will have them back in a couple of days so I can keep posting every other day or so.... Again, glad that you enjoyed.  
  
TigerLilly1889: Glad that you're enjoying it. Here's your update :)  
  
Moon-n-Universe-Goddess: So glad that you like it. Actually the entire story is written, I'm just having the end parts beta'ed now.  
  
TheManWhoLetTheBoyLive: Glad that you're enjoying it. I am going to try and update this soon. It's all been written, I'm just having the later chapters beta'ed now.   



	5. Ch 4 Growing Bonds

Disclaimer: All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion  
  
Author's Note: Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.  
  
Special Thanks: Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

* * *

**Chapter Four - Growing Bonds**  
  
The rest of the holidays went by fairly swiftly for the two Gryffindors, while, for Draco, they dragged on in slow motion as the inevitable neared. Now that Madam Pomfrey had seen him awake and interacting with Potter, he knew it was only a matter of time before he had to face the rest of the school.  
  
Weasley had returned early upon hearing the news that the 'boy wonder' had, yet again, miraculously survived another encounter with Voldemort; the final encounter.  
  
Surprisingly enough, Draco found that, despite the hesitation he felt towards the hospital wing opening to others besides him and the two Gryffindors, Weasley was welcome company. He had developed an unspoken sense of gratitude and admiration towards Granger. After all, she had been the first kind face he had seen after months of abuse. Potter and he had reached an unspoken truce as the young Gryffindor had, essentially, agreed to put the past behind them and take him for where he was today.  
  
Weasley- well he was an altogether different story. Ronald Weasley was a textbook case of a one-track mind. Hermione and Harry had tried to subdue him the first time he entered the hospital wing, asking him to 'let sleeping dragons lie.' But, true to every suspicion Draco had ever had of the boy, he could not conceive of the thought that even Draco Malfoy was capable of change.  
  
Honestly, Draco didn't blame him. He certainly didn't feel as if he'd gone through some great epiphany, unless you included the one about his bastard of a father. No, he still held on to the same ideals that he'd always clung to; the superiority of the old pureblood families and the maintaining of Wizarding tradition. Yes, he had accepted that Hermione Granger was an exceptional witch, one that he was now bound to through a wizard's debt. But one exception did not make a rule.  
  
Despite his personal understanding for Weasley's unrelenting position, it would be less than Slytherin for Draco to pass up the opportunity to take advantage of the housemates' disagreement.  
  
"Harry, Mione', you can't be serious. Look, I don't care what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named put him through. It's Malfoy; I don't doubt but that he deserved it."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry turned to face his best friend. "Come off it Ron," he said. "_Voldemort_ is dead. _Voldemort_ is not coming back; I nearly killed myself to ensure that the world was free from _Voldemort_ for good this time," he finished, nearly yelling at the absurdity of someone still refusing to say the fallen wizard's name. "And you are right, this is Malfoy. Malfoy is still Slytherin, conniving, sneaky, and a git. What he went through changed none of that. But, he did see, first-hand the intricate web of deception that Voldemort cast in recruiting his followers."  
  
"But Harry…" Ron started again, his voice nearly a whine.  
  
"For Merlin's sake, Ron," Hermione said, unable to contain her frustration any longer. "Malfoy is a prat, that fact is well established. Harry, here, has a hero complex; your obsession with Quidditch borders on a mental disorder; and I, in the words of our dear Potions Master, am an insufferable know-it-all. We're not asking you to propose to Malfoy."  
  
"If you did, I'm afraid I would have to decline," Draco drawled, unable to resist participating any longer. "I've never been one to go for the tall, thick, and clueless sort."  
  
Harry and Hermione, having grown accustomed to Draco's sarcasm over the holidays, tried to stifle their laughs, but Ron was clearly less than amused.  
  
"I don't know what you've done to… to…"  
  
"I can understand your disappointment Weasley. Being passed over for Granger…"  
  
Harry laughed aloud at that statement as Ron continued to redden, his fists clenched as if ready for a fight.  
  
"Malfoy, that's quite enough," Hermione snapped, shooting him a look that showed that she was clearly not amused.  
  
"You see 'Mione, he hasn't changed, even you can see that…"  
  
"Oh, do shut up, Ron, can't you see he's just winding you up," she cut him off, rubbing the temples of her head. She would be glad when Harry returned to Gryffindor tower because trying to play referee between Ron and Draco would undoubtedly prove to be maddening.  
  
The next few days were fairly uneventful, as Harry received permission from Madam Pomfrey to spend time outside of the hospital wing, so long as he promised to check back in every few hours so that she could continue to monitor his condition. Hermione offered no protest when the Matron requested that she continue to spend the majority of her time with Malfoy.  
  
Apparently, Snape was becoming more insistent on seeing the boy and Madam Pomfrey honestly did not see any reason that a meeting should be delayed any further, now that Harry and Ron had both been able to spend extended periods of time in his company without issue.  
  
Hermione agreed that she thought there would be little consequence in a meeting taking place, other than an understandable hesitancy to cope with reality outside the hospital wing, and promised to report back as soon as her suspicions were confirmed or denied.  
  
Her conversation with Draco about speaking with his Head of House and returning to his quarters had been very brief. She was initially surprised to see that he had apparently thought about, and considered, the likelihood that his days in isolation were drawing to an end. When she asked him how he felt about it, his only response had been, "I don't see how my feelings are relevant. We both know that I can't remain here forever."  
  
Snape had met with Malfoy to discuss his reentry into life within the school. When he met with Madam Pomfrey and Hermione later to discuss his observations, the two witches had been quite appalled to find that he had used his skills as a Legilimens to get a better idea of what Draco had suffered. He had refused to discuss the details with Hermione present, but had assured her that Draco's swift recovery, both physical and mental, was nothing short of miraculous.  
  
With the start of the spring term, the Seventh Years found three students that had been missing for the majority of the first term rejoining them in classes. Draco, as Head Boy, returned to his dormitory, everyone involved thankful for that luxury which prevented him from having to either abandon his house or risk further retribution from those that still deemed him a traitor. It soon became evident that few Slytherins thought it mere coincidence that his return immediately followed the defeat of Voldemort and none considered that his absence was due to abduction by said villain.  
  
Draco, as expected, passed all of the qualifying exams allowing him to complete the seventh year with his class with no trouble. Harry was permitted to defer taking the first round of exams as he had missed significantly less schoolwork.  
  
After about the first week of the new term, all involved had fallen back into much the same routine as they had begun the school year with. Ron and Draco still faced off at every opportunity with Harry or Hermione pulling their friend back as Draco finished the confrontation, typically pointing out the Weasleys' poverty.  
  
Both Gryffindors had tried to convince Ron that he was simply perpetuating the situation by responding to Draco, but of course, he would not listen. Even further complicating the matter was that, with the defeat of Voldemort, Harry had appeared to lighten up considerably, being much more prone to outbursts of laughter. Unfortunately, these outbursts did not exclude Draco's wittier digs against his best friend.  
  
Hermione had left the Head Boy in their common room with his studies, fully intent on retiring to her room with her journal. She fully intended to take the frustrations she had regarding Malfoy and Ron out on paper with her quill, since talking to her friend obviously had little effect. As she sat on her bed and crossed her legs, carefully inking the quill before bringing it up to the journal, the thoughts that had moments ago seemed so urgent to put to paper left her head.  
  
Deciding to employ a tactic that she had learned years ago in her Muggle education for creative writing, Hermione simply allowed her mind to wander and the quill to move. After no more than a few minutes, she put her quill down and cast a cleansing spell to remove the ink splatters that had gotten on the bed. As she read the words, Hermione was confronted with the feelings that had become more prevalent with each passing day since Malfoy had woken.  
  
_Why do I feel this bond between he and I? I can understand his comfort around me. I was his rescuer; that is a wizard's debt. It is ancient magic, unfailing and perfectly reasonable. But why do I, the one who he is indebted to, feel my own obligation; that of his protector. Even as I sit here and write this, I do so ignoring the compulsion that calls me to watch over him._  
  
Hermione tore the pages out of the journal, setting them in the vessel that was reserved for her most intimate thoughts. Touching the tip of her wand to the torn pages and incanting _'Incendio'_, Hermione affirmed her determination to accept the truth as it rose with the smoke, while doubt and worry turned to ashes. As the last of the flames died out, Hermione added the ashes to her container before retrieving her Arithmancy book and supplies and returning to the common room.  
  
True to her word, Hermione decided to trust her instincts, which had rarely failed her before, refusing to question the reason behind her sense of obligation towards Malfoy. Their evenings were spent generally in companionable silence, interrupted by the occasional debate regarding their coursework.  
  
Hermione found that, now that she no longer bothered with the why's of their relationship, she rather enjoyed it. She had always enjoyed companionship during study but had grown weary of the invariable battles that would ensue when working with Ron and Harry.  
  
Malfoy's discipline was similar to hers, though it was rare to see him poring over his studies all evening. He tended to study and complete his assignments as would be expected of a diligent student, quick to point out when Hermione had exceeded the requirements for an essay, before pulling out a book to read.  
  
It was on one of those evenings when Hermione was well into her third foot of parchment for an Arithmancy essay that only required two that Draco decided to break their accustomed silent companionship.  
  
"In the name of Merlin, how is it that we've been working on the same essay, yet I've finished mine over an hour ago? Sitting here listening to your quill scratching against the parchment is becoming nearly as unbearable as potting mandrakes."  
  
Hermione, her nerves already on edge as she contemplated the amount of material she would need to cover in the month left before the N.E.W.T.'s, slammed the quill down on the parchment, a bit of ink splattering onto her cheek.  
  
"You know, Malfoy, not all of us were bequeathed enough Galleons to live off of for ten lifetimes. I'm so sorry if the fact that I intend to leave Hogwarts ready for whatever life has to throw at me is disturbing to you. Perhaps it is best if I retire to my rooms."  
  
"Suit yourself, Granger," Draco drawled nonchalantly.  
  
As Hermione exhaled loudly in exasperation and gathered her things, he picked his book back up and returned to the page he had been reading. Not until he heard the door to her room slam, echoed by what sounded like something heavy being tossed against the wall, did he let his head fall back in frustration.  
  
He really hadn't meant to get her so riled up. He had honestly thought that the off-handed comment was perfectly allowable as both she and Potter had behaved very rationally, not expecting him to transform into something that went against the very fiber of his being. It wasn't as if that were the worst comment she had heard him make, yet this was the first time she'd snapped at him. Perhaps, whatever it was that was drawing the two of them together, was affecting her as much as it was him.  
  
Snapping out of his thoughts as he heard her storm down the stairs, he watched her as she left; the feeling of emptiness he had been trying to ignore whenever they parted company came over him again. He settled back and tried to bury that feeling yet again but knew that it would not happen when he realized he had spent the past minute trying to read a single sentence.  
  
Resigning himself to the fact that it was time for them to discuss, or at the very least acknowledge, the strange bond that they seemed to have formed over the past few months, Draco returned his book to his dormitory and left the Heads' quarters. Bypassing the library, Draco headed to the rear staircase located off of the main hall before making his way up the stairs.  
  
Hermione had tried to continue the essay she had been writing upon returning to her room, but was unable to concentrate. Every time she began a task, she would feel that same draw, making her feel obligated to be with him, to comfort him. Despite the sarcasm and smirk that he had reclaimed, she knew that he was still haunted. Hermione had fled to the Astronomy Tower, not wanting to run into any other students or be easily found.  
  
She opened the book that she had brought with her. Not the Arithmancy text needed to complete the essay that had become the point of their contention, no, she had brought her beloved journal; her emotional waste basket, the only tool that had proven effective of exhausting all of the emotional and mental anguish from her system so that she could function.  
  
Absently running the fine feathers of the quill across her jaw, Hermione tried to mentally separate the strands of thought to isolate those that had her in such turmoil. Ever since he had rejoined the schools population, since he and Harry had formed their eerie, comfortable camaraderie, her entire sense of balance had been thrown.  
  
Whenever she looked into those eyes that called to her from across the room, the Great Hall, even through the doors to her private quarters, she could see the humility that had surfaced in him. It was true that, despite his hurt and subsequent healing, he had managed to reclaim that air of confidence that deemed him worthy of Slytherin house, yet, he had been freed of the burden of the arrogance that had made him the bane of her existence for six years. Alone with her thoughts and journal, she could not deny that she now found his assuredness appealing, where it had once been appalling.  
  
Hermione sighed as she hugged the journal close to her chest, jumping as a clap of thunder sounded in the distance. She found the oncoming storm comforting, as if the gods that controlled such things were joining her in her inner turmoil. She gazed up hazily as the storm clouds rolled in, her body straightening as a familiar chill and urgency come over her. Turning slowly, she was not shocked to see Draco standing at the apex of the stairwell.  
  
"You're not the only one who feels it," he offered slowly, as he crossed the room to sit down next to her, his hands folded awkwardly in his lap.  
  
Draco had felt the bond that was growing between them since he first awoke in the hospital wing, something inside of him breaking at the sight of her in tears over Harry's bed.  
  
He hadn't wanted to admit that he wanted her by his side but it was becoming harder and harder to deny. Even as he had lain silent, he had found that when he desired her gaze strongly enough to see the depths of emotion her eyes could offer, he could will her to look at him.  
  
Hermione closed the book carefully, looking up into his eyes, not bothering to clear herself of the tears that had formed.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Draco paused. He couldn't answer that question; not completely, not yet. He hadn't even eliminated all of the possibilities. Of course, he had his suspicions, his fears. They had surfaced while he was in captivity. Malfoy lore, told at family gatherings, came to mind as he tried to will himself the blessed escape into death. But he was so young. No one under the age of seventy had been affected in twenty generations. No, he couldn't answer that question yet. He would need more time. Having no verbal answer to her query, Draco took her hand in his. Looking into her eyes he raised her hand to his cheek, turning slightly to kiss the inside of her palm.  
  
With that single act, Hermione felt the dam that she had so carefully constructed to ward off the emotions, give way to months of cracks and dents. Burying her head against his shoulder, Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and decided that she would worry about what had drawn the two together tomorrow.  
  
They sat that way, in the silence that had become comfortable for the two, for a long while. Unwilling to move lest they dislodge the blanket of content that had settled around them, they simply sat; the beats of their hearts regulating to the tempo of the rainfall outside; the rise and fall of their chests lulling them both towards slumber.  
  
"Draco," Hermione spoke timidly, looking up into his face, unable to read his expression.  
  
He winced at the sound of his name. It was an unreasonable request, but he felt as if he would be perfectly content to simply be near her like this, no words exchanged, just being. And so he didn't respond, save raising his hand to the back of her head to lay it back against his chest. _'Just a little while longer,'_ he thought, hoping whatever bond they held was strong enough to convey the desire.  
  
Hermione sighed. Her legs and backside were aching. Deciding to give him a few more minutes, as it was clear that he did not wish to leave yet, she nestled her head against his chest, raising her hand to move the curls, which had slipped into her mouth.

* * *

Review Responses:  
  
Katie: I hope that you've enjoyed the update and am glad to see that you are following the story. Hopefully you enjoy the end of this chapter, I wrote it initially for a challenge on the quietones yahoo group while writing earliar parts of this story and managed to work it in rather nicely. Look forward to hearing your feelings on the update!  
  
Jenie: Wow, I'm so glad that you're enjoying the fic. You know fanfiction dot net gets a bad rep in some circles, but I must say the readers here seem to review more! One of the comments I've gotten in other fics was to try and be more descriptive. It's not exactly my nature, I tend to not notice a lot of things, even in real life, but I'm working on it. When writing about his parents' effects I was trying to do that, glad that it did not go unnoticed :)  
  
SiriuslyPadfoot'sGal: Alas, I am sorry to inform you that my response will not be entirely positive. I do not take well to other's claiming my men, and Sirius is mine, SIRIUSLY :) hehehehe, j/k but I couldn't resist as I have definitely tried to claim him as my own. I'm really glad that you're enjoying the fic thus far. I had written most of what you've read so far before acquiring a beta and simply corrected inconsistencies and grammatical errors as I was under a tight deadline when writing it. But I do believe that from her input into my writing it improves throughout until the end. Here's your update, I hope you enjoy!  
  
Runaway mental patient: Brilliant blush. adjusts glasses to read user name Oh wait, can I take that as a valid opinion from a mental patient? Hey, I'll take what I can get. I hope you enjoy!!!  
  
TheManWhoLetTheBoyLive: giggles I'm going to take that as a positive response. Here's your update, thanks for commenting!  
  
Artemis1860: I caught the plug and I will try and make my way over to check out your fic, it's posted here right? The change in Draco I'm hoping will be distinctive but not drastic or overnight. One of my biggest problems with this ship is the sudden 180's people have Draco doing, actually this ship and D/G. In anycase as I said, I am going to try and check out Happy Ending, although I have a SS/HG wreaking havoc with my brain right now! 


	6. Ch 5 The Future?

Disclaimer: All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion  
  
Author's Note: Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.  
  
Special Thanks: Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

* * *

Chapter Five - The Future?  
  
Over the remaining month, Hermione and Draco had found a comfortable rapport. Where as before their night in the Astronomy Tower, they had spent their time together in order to satisfy whatever mysterious force was calling them together, now they actually looked forward to and enjoyed that mutual time.  
  
Not much changed, both still continued to study independently or catch up on their leisure reading, but the atmosphere was relaxed and devoid of the tension that had been there before. It was as if through some unspoken agreement, they had both confessed that there was something between them too strong to deny; too strong to fight even.  
  
Neither dared to mention the definite change that had occurred between them, nor did they allow it to change how they interacted when amongst the rest of the students.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley," Draco drawled one day after coming across Ron shoving Harry playfully in the hallway.  
  
Ron tensed at the sound of the Head Boy's voice. Despite his best friends' assurances that Draco really had changed, he still couldn't let go of his suspicions that the Slytherin was not to be trusted.  
  
"For what," he snapped spinning around, his face flushed as his blue eyes bore into silver ones.  
  
A smirk played at Draco's mouth as he replied lazily, "I would think that as a Prefect you would be well aware of Hogwarts' policy against brawling in the corridors."  
  
"Any moron with eyes could see that we were just playing, Malfoy," Ron retorted, trying to pull free from Harry's grip on his shoulder. "Of course if you had any _real_ friends, you might be better equipped to recognize the action."  
  
Draco had perfected the art of masking his emotions and did not allow his face to betray the fact that Ron's words had struck a chord within him, opting instead to retaliate. _'The thick Gryffindor, so loyal, so brave, so easy,'_ he thought as he replied. "As happy as you and Potter might be in your relationship, I assure you that I have no desire to know the details of your perversions. Ten more points for indulging your indiscretions outside of the privacy of Gryffindor Tower."  
  
"C'mon mate," Harry called, pulling Ron from Draco and trying to avoid the loss of more points or the detention Ron was sure to receive for trying to disfigure the Head Boy in the middle of the hallway. "He's simply jealous that he can't have you for himself," he replied, his voice turning syrupy as he batted his eyelashes over his shoulder at Draco in farewell.  
  
Draco chuckled to himself, _'Who knew that Potter had a sense of humor,'_ he wondered as he made his way towards Arithmancy. As much as he loathed admitting it, the Weasel had a point. He might not have had friendship like that of the Gryffindor trio, but this year was the first where he found himself alone.  
  
He had known Pansy, Greg and Vincent since childhood, growing up playing with them whenever their parents were called away for some social gathering. They had entered Hogwarts as close friends as anyone within Slytherin House could be.  
  
How ironic it was that the students that had been his friends the longest were the first to turn their backs on him. All four of them had become increasingly involved in Death Eater activity. Though never inducted into Voldemort's ranks, their parents encouraged them to provide as much information as they could about the Headmasters actions.  
  
When Lucius betrayed Voldemort, Draco's three childhood friends had been the ones to deliver the information to Slytherin House. He had little doubt that they were also the one's that provided the information necessary for his capture.  
  
Draco groaned as he heard a husky voice call behind him and the increased foot falls indicating someone trying to catch up to him. Turning slowly, he struggled not to laugh as he greeted the girl who had been, not so subtly, trying to gain his attention since his recovery.  
  
"What is it Millicent," he questioned impatiently, in no mood to listen to her pathetic, fumbling attempts at being coy. "In case you hadn't noticed the time, the next period starts in three minutes."  
  
Millicent shifted her books to her other arm and she shifted her weight nervously to the right side. "Of course Malfoy, I was just hoping that, well I wanted…"  
  
Generally Draco followed the instruction that he'd received all his life. Always remaining cool, regardless of how maddening, annoying, or preposterous the current situation was. His father however had never encountered Millicent Bullstrode when giving him those lessons and the girl appeared too thick to grasp the numerous brush offs he had given her over the months.  
  
"For Merlin's sake Bullstrode, spit it out or shut up. On second thought, don't complete that thought. You're attempts at subtlety are pathetic. I am not interested in studying, eating, going to Hogsmeade, shagging, or any other proposition you have been struggling to present me with," Draco hissed, lowering his voice not for her benefit, but rather to save himself embarrassment.  
  
"Might I suggest you try Crabbe or Goyle? Although I doubt that even those two would be interested. Generally a man is interested in a witch. Perhaps you might have a chance with Longbottom; or Finnegan, if you can get him away from Thomas for long enough."  
  
As he turned to continue on his way to Arithmancy, Draco did not break stride as the witch who had been momentarily dumb struck found her voice again.  
  
"You might want to try and hold on to the few in your house that would still associate with you. The Malfoy name holds considerably less influence these days and you will need allies," Millicent spat at his retreating back.  
  
She was right of course. Draco had considered it as the end of term drew near. The only reason he was able to live in relative peace now was because he was under Dumbledore's watchful eye and had quarters outside of Slytherin House. But when he graduated, that would no longer be the case.  
  
The Death Eater's were no longer active. Those that had been involved either evading capture or aiding the Ministry in exchange for whatever mercy could be found in finding those that were missing. That did not leave Draco in any less danger.  
  
While no one would openly support the cause of their fallen Lord, they would not easily forget Draco's association with their betrayal. Many had lost their lives or that of family due to the information that Lucius provided the Ministry and their memories were sure to be long.  
  
Absently settling down in the back of the classroom, Draco pulled out his parchment and quill. When Professor Vector cleared his voice indicating the start of class, Draco willed himself to put the questions that Millicent had triggered out of his mind.  
  
Arithmancy had been uncharacteristically boring. Generally a fascinating class, examining the science and logic used for crafting spells, today's lesson had been the first in a series of month long revision. Draco, having a near photographic memory, had little patience for those professors that chose to coddle their students.  
  
While it might be popular opinion that Professor Snape was his favorite due to the preferential treatment he received, that was not the case. He had a great deal of respect for any professor that demanded their students take responsibility for their own education, including Professor McGonagall.  
  
As he walked down the corridor, anxious to retreat to the quiet of his common room where perhaps the stress headache that had developed might subside, an angry voice assaulted his senses.  
  
"Hold up Malfoy!"  
  
Draco groaned inwardly, he had grown accustomed to his new found understanding with Hermione. Their interactions always subdued, generally silent, the irritation in her voice would be foreign to him, had he not recognized them from six years of animosity.  
  
He stopped and turned to address her. It would do no good to continue on as if he did not hear her. She could follow him anywhere he might choose to safely retreat and he figured any confrontation held in the corridors would be less explosive than if he allowed her anger to grow until they reached their quarters.  
  
"Yes Granger," he returned, hoping that the verbal onslaught that was coming would be swift.  
  
"How dare you take twenty points from my house without just cause? Just because you have a badge that says you're Head Boy doesn't give you the right to walk about…" Her voice trailed off as he winced at the inflection in her voice.  
  
"As much as I empathize with your outrage Granger, it appeared to me as if your friend the Weasel was assaulting precious Potter. Surely you should be happy that I diffused the situation before it got out of hand. He would have only lost ten points had Potter not insinuated that their activities were of a more personal nature. I'm sure the Head Girl would not advocate students allowing their hormones to dictate how students interact in the corridors," Draco retorted calmly as he pressed the fingers of his left hand to his temple.  
  
"You are positively infuriating, you know that Malfoy?" Hermione shook her head as an infuriated laugh left her lips, her arms folded across her chest and weight shifting from side to side. "Ron and Harry have been driving me crazy about how we spend so little time together and I've actually been putting them off because of whatever _this_ is," she hissed at him, lowering her voice and gesturing towards the air between them. "But I believe that my best friends and I are long overdue for an evening together. I do hope that you left the common room presentable, I _will_ be having company tonight."  
  
Draco groaned as Hermione brushed past him. If there was one thing he didn't need tonight, any night really, was the company of Ron Weasley. Potter had become tolerable as he rarely took anything Draco said seriously, but Weasley simply had no appreciation for subtle humor, ready to curse, hex, or punch at the slightest provocation.  
  
Of course, Draco thought smiling inwardly, there was the time that Ron tried to hex him and spent the remainder of the afternoon spitting up slugs. _"Tonight could prove interesting,"_ he chuckled before groaning and clutching his head. _"Or it could prove to be a painful end to the day,"_ he amended as the pounding behind his eyes returned.  
  
When Harry and Ron arrived later that evening in the common room, Draco attempted to retire to his room for the evening. He had resigned himself that the best way to avoid a full blown migraine was to stay as far away from Weasley as possible. Of course, the cursed bond he shared with Hermione would not allow him to do that.  
  
"Okay 'Mione, I know that you and Harry keep insisting that Malfoy here is a reformed man, but what else is going on? There's only a month left before N.E.W.T.'s and you have yet to set up our revision schedule. You haven't come to Hogsmeade with us at all since Harry here as been released. You spend your evenings studying with Malfoy," Ron stopped as Hermione opened her mouth as if to deny it.  
  
Harry chuckled as he watched her eyes widen. "Well, you might not be studying," he raised an eyebrow in Draco's direction, "but according to the map you are spending the evenings in the common room."  
  
Hermione shot Harry a heated glance, not pleased that her ally had turned on her. "Nothings going on you guys. Malfoy and I just found that we study well together. Honestly Ron, we're in our seventh year," she continued, the frustration in her voice evident, "you should not need me to remind you that you need to study."  
  
"But that doesn't explain why you can't even carve out time to join us for a Butterbeer on the weekends Mione," Ron countered. "C'mon, we miss spending time with you. This is the last Hogsmeade weekend _ever_, you've got to come."  
  
Hermione sighed. She did miss her friends. Actually she was surprised it had taken Ron so long to say something to her. Generally he said the first thing that came to mind whether he should or not. She looked to Harry who was nodding in agreement. It's not that she didn't want to go. She just didn't know whether she _could_ go. She hadn't spent an entire day apart from Draco since they had rescued him. As it was, the few classes they did not share were barely tolerable.  
  
Sensing her hesitation, Ron sighed. "Mione, I can't believe I'm going to say this. If it makes your decision easier, you can even bring the git. I won't lift my wand or fist all day, I promise."  
  
Hermione bit her lip. Although she knew she shouldn't, she turned to look to Draco. Logic told her that they would be fine for one day, but it wasn't something they discussed.  
  
"Why Weasley, I wouldn't want you to make Potter here jealous now that I'm aware of the nature of your _relationship_," Draco interrupted her thoughts. "Actually, it would be refreshing to have the common room to myself," he added scowling in Hermione's direction.  
  
She knew it was petty banter with little meaning, but Draco's insinuation that she was behaving like some witch with nothing better to do than sniff behind him struck a nerve within her.  
  
Fixing her face in her own smirk Hermione turned back towards him, "Actually  
Draco, I think that I have carried the weight of both of our duties for long enough. As Head Girl, I need to meet with you sometime soon to discuss the graduation festivities and I can think of no better time than Sunday. Shall we say three at the Three Broomsticks?"  
  
Harry coughed a laugh that sounded remotely like _"whipped"_.  
  
As the glare of the two Head Students focused on his own smiling green eyes, he gathered his composure changing the subject.  
  
Draco spent the rest of the evening sitting in a chair by the fire pretending to concentrate on the novel he had opened before him. He was actually listening as the three Gryffindors discussed their plans for next year. Potter was predictably hoping to be accepted into the Auror's training program. Weasley was considering applying alongside Potter, but was really hoping to be recruited for his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Canon's.  
  
Draco let out an uncharacteristic snort at that proclamation. True, Ron had improved considerably since his debut on the Gryffindor House team during their fifth year. But he was still no more than an average Keeper. Even if the Quidditch season had not ended prematurely due to the Final Battle, his likelihood to ever be recruited professionally were slim to none.  
  
"Well I intend to get a job at the ministry," Hermione stated. She had seen the look that Ron had given Malfoy and would really prefer to avoid any conflict this evening.  
  
"What's that Granger," Draco interrupted, "not going to follow Potter and Weasley into being the purveyors of justice?"  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes briefly at the Slytherin before turning back to her best friends. "Actually, I am hoping to work in the Department of Mysteries. Of course, I don't know exactly what they do, but from what Dumbledore has said I imagine that they work with converting raw magical energy into a usable form. I've always been fascinated with the science behind magic."  
  
Ron's mouth gaped as he looked at his friend. "Blimey. We're about to graduate and you want to get a job where you'll be doing more research?"  
  
"Ron, no matter what job you take you will have to do some form of research. In Quidditch, you research the other teams' tactics. Aurors have to research their suspects or the details of whatever case they're working on. Even your brothers conduct research when developing their new product. Just because you're graduating, assuming you take the time to study for your N.E.W.T.'s, does not mean you won't have to think anymore," Hermione chided.  
  
Ron looked to Harry, disappointed to find no support from his best friend. Sighing in defeat he stood, "Fine Hermione, you win. I need to take my studies more seriously. C'mon Harry, I think Professor Granger is telling us that we should be back in Gryffindor Tower studying."  
  
Laughing at Ron, Harry stood as well. "All right Hermione. But we'll see you Sunday at the Three Broomsticks right?"  
  
Nodding her Head as Harry pulled her into his arms, holding her longer than necessary, Hermione bit her lip as he whispered in her ear, "I don't know what's going on between you and Malfoy and I know he's changed. Just, be careful Mione. He doesn't have to be a Death Eater for you to get hurt."  
  
The weekend passed swiftly, Hermione managed to even convince Draco to join her on her patrols. In truth, she had done little other than direct the prefects since the Final Battle, first caught up with tending to Draco and then later unable or unwilling to leave his company.  
  
When Sunday came, Harry and Ron were calling from outside of the portrait hole nearly a half hour before breakfast.  
  
"Pity that the two of you aren't this enthusiastic about getting to your classes," Hermione chided as she let her friends into the Head suite. The carriages don't leave for another two hours.  
  
Harry cast a sideways glance at Ron before replying. "We know. Ron here wanted to make sure that you didn't disappear before breakfast in an effort to back out. Where's Malfoy, are you still determined to subject us to his presence today?"  
  
Hermione's lips pursed. "That's very funny Harry. Perhaps I should have taken Draco seriously when he told me that you two had something going on," she countered before addressing Ron. "Is Luna coming as well?"  
  
"Well, she said she might meet us later. Apparently she has something planned with my sister that she can't tell me. She's been acting strangely lately."  
  
"No? Lovegood acting strange," Draco drawled from the top of the stairs. "I would think that you were quite accustomed to that. There is a reason most of the first and second years think her name really is Loony."  
  
Hermione and Harry stifled laughter as Ron struggled to remain his composure. "I promised Hermione that I wouldn't get into it with you today. So can we please try to keep this civil?"  
  
Draco started to reply, but Hermione grabbed her cloak and bag and shoved Ron out of the common room before he could goad Ron further. Smiling she looked back through the portrait hole, "we'll meet you outside after breakfast," she asked, allowing the painting to close when he answered with a nod.  
Amazingly, the morning in Hogsmeade went relatively well. Their first visit had been to Fred and George's shop. It was still early and the twins who loathed waking early did not offer until well after noon.  
  
When the Gryffindors finally managed to rouse the two shop owners, they proved to be quite hospitable, unwilling to pass up the opportunity to show the Slytherin patron how welcome he was.  
  
Master's of charm and deception, as any successful prankster must be, they engaged Malfoy in idle talk after showing Ron, Harry and Hermione to their flat upstairs to floo the Burrow to discuss the graduation celebration their mum was planning.  
  
When the Gryffindors returned to the shop, George and Draco were arguing animatedly about which team would make the Quidditch Finals.  
  
"I always suspected that you and your brother were a bit nutters, but now I'm convinced. You think that the Fitchburg Finches will actually best Kenmare for a shot at the cup," Draco questioned, his voice unusually loud.  
  
Hermione laughed to herself. It was definitely something about wizards and Quidditch. She had not seen Malfoy raise his voice in the seven years they had attended school together, not even the time Buckbeak attacked him. Apparently even the more refined pure-bloods lost their head when it came to discussing their beloved sport.  
  
"The yanks haven't provided serious competition in the International Quidditch in over a century," he finished shaking his head and laughing in disbelief.  
  
George grinned at his brother, a knowing smile passing between the two. "Of course they haven't Malfoy, but there's another year and I have a sneaking suspicion that some players who might have been involved in questionable activity might decide to head over to the states."  
  
Hermione frowned as she saw the look of disbelief on Draco's face morph into the emotionless mask that he wore so often. Knowing that any discussion of the war and Voldemort tended to be a sore subject with him, she interrupted throwing her arms out to either side as she descended the steps. "Enough! No more Quidditch talk."  
  
Harry licked his lips as he finished chewing, following Hermione downstairs. Holding out a wrapper, he offered Draco a piece of chocolate. "You've got to try one of these Malfoy, they're incredible."  
  
Draco, thankful for the return of his classmates took the wrapper and popped the candy in his mouth. His eyes widened as he resisted the urge to belch. He had never had indigestion problems in his life, yet all of a sudden he felt as if his stomach had filled with air.  
  
"Potter! What… did… you… give… me," he growled, growing angrier as everyone began laughing at him. "Don't make me ask again," he continued as it became apparent no one seemed to feel the need to let them in on his joke.  
  
He took a step forward intending to grab George, who was nearest, by the collar when he was propelled into the air. He raised his hands to shield his head from the impact of the ceiling, but immediately was propelled back to the ground upon contact.  
  
Fred, George, and Ron howled as the collapsed on each other, a mass of red and freckles shaking in their amusement.  
  
"Those are brilliant," Harry exclaimed as he laughed openly, his head following Draco's movements throughout the store as he rebounded off the walls, floors and celing. "What're they called?"  
  
"Bouncing bon-bons," George answered as he swallowed his laughter and stood to watch Draco with Harry. "They did turn out rather well didn't they?"  
  
"Filch is going to be screaming mad when those make their way to Hogwarts," Hermione replied, struggling to maintain a straight face.  
  
"Filch," Draco growled, "How long before…" he started pausing as the side of his face impacted with a display case, propelling him up and towards the front door. "the potion's effects…" he continued, again impacting the ceiling, "wear off?"  
  
"What's your hurry Malfoy," Ron asked as he gained his composure. "I find watching your acrobatics quite entertaining." He watched as Draco's weightless body bounced across the room before he broke out into another fit of laughter. Composing himself long enough to add, "We should charge for this. 'Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes presents the Amazing Bouncing Ferret'."  
  
At that last statement all four Gryffindors came undone. The memory of Draco being transformed into a ferret three years ago would have been enough to bring almost anyone to laughter. But that, combined with the image of Draco bouncing around the shop was too funny for anyone not to laugh.  
  
Hermione of course, was the first to calm down. "All right, I think Malfoy has had enough. Fred, George, where's the antidote? And don't bother to tell me you don't have one, I know better than that."  
  
Pouting as if Molly Weasley had just taken away their broomsticks, Fred reached in his pocket and handed Hermione a vial with a green potion in it. "Has anyone told you you're a real kill joy Hermione?"  
  
Forcing a smile in his direction accompanied by a curt thank you, Hermione turned back towards Draco, who had gotten caught in the little hallway that led back to the store room.  
  
Hermione walked over to hand Draco the vial, but gasped as it fell from his grip and nearly hit the floor. Luckily, Harry had followed behind her and managed to catch it before it could break.  
  
"You're never going to be able to get it to him in there," Harry mused as Draco bounced back and forth in the narrow passage way. "He is changing direction too fast. "  
  
Harry ducked beneath Malfoy and began shoving him out of the narrow passage way until he finally bounced across the shop, back across the open floor.  
  
"But we can't get it to him in here either," Hermione complained as she chewed her lower lip.  
  
"Give me the vial Hermione," George said walking up to the brunette and holding out his hand. As he caught her wary look he repeated, "Give me the vial." When she didn't show any chance of turning over the antidote, he sighed.  
  
"Look, the only way we're going to get that vial to Draco with any certainty is by tossing it to him. Fred or I are the only one that will be able to anticipate where he's going to be with any accuracy and get the vial there. We did spend the last five years or so knocking his housemates off their brooms with charmed bludgers. I think we can handle this inanimate vial."  
  
"Give it to them already," Draco grunted before he collided with the corner of a bookshelf on the far end of the shop.  
  
When the Draco finally took the antidote, he fell rather awkwardly down to the floor with a grunt. Brushing himself off he, remained silent until they left the shop, save the obligatory threat and promise of torture.  
  
His face set, he followed the Gryffindors down the path towards Honeydukes as they recounted what they were now calling the _Amazing Bouncing Ferret_ incident. After satisfying himself by glaring at a couple of third year Hufflepuffs as they gazed curiously at the unlikely foursome in passing, Draco strode ahead of them, wanting to distance himself from their incessant laughter.  
  
Upon reaching Zonkos, Draco froze as a wizard approached him. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as a sickingly familiar smell washed over him, _Rookwood_.  
  
Fumbling nervously inside of his robes for his wand, panic overcame him as the tall wizard stopped before him. _'He must be wearing a glamour,'_ Draco thought as the unfamiliar face smiled down upon him.  
  
"Master Malfoy, it _is_ good to see that you have recovered."  
  
Draco swallowed his fear as he looked up into the man's cold brown eyes. "I should think so. You were always meticulous in your healing."  
  
The corners of the man's mouth curved up into a deceptive smile. "So you have not forgotten the care that I gave you. I must say that I am pleasantly surprised that you recognize me. Unfortunately, the aftermath of the war necessitates that I disguise myself," he replied quietly as Hermione, Ron, and Harry ran up behind Draco, their wands drawn though held at their sides.  
  
"Are you okay Draco," Hermione questioned. An eerie sense had come over her a moment ago and when she looked up she saw Draco standing tense, his hand inside his robes as if seeking his wand.  
  
The man turned to Hermione and smiled. "Such a lovely companion Draco, although I'm not so sure that Lucius would approve of your choice in friends," he smirked eyeing the scar upon Harry's forehead.  
  
"Given that someone saw fit to alleviate him of earthly concerns, I'm not so sure that it matters," Harry retorted, raising his wand towards the man's chest.  
  
Rookwood's eyes flashed towards Harry and he opened his mouth as if to reply before turning back to Draco suddenly. "It was good to see you again. I imagine that we'll cross paths again soon."  
  
"Was that him," Hermione questioned as she saw Draco's shoulders relax and he withdrew his hands from the pockets of his robes.  
  
Lowering his wand when Rookwood was out of sight, Harry turned to Draco. "Who was he?"  
  
Draco didn't have a chance to respond before Professor Snape was upon them.  
  
"Perhaps you would care to explain Mr. Potter, why I saw you with your wand aimed at another wizard while your two housemates had their wands drawn at the ready," Snape asked, his eyes burrowing into Harry with anger.  
  
Hermione turned from Draco to look up at the Potions Master. "We thought that Draco had been…"  
  
"Professor, Potter was simply trying to defend me. I had mistaken that wizard's identity."  
  
Snape looked back to Hermione before abruptly turning in the direction that Rookwood had taken his leave. Unable to see anyone out of the ordinary, he turned his attention back on Draco.  
  
"Are you quite certain that the Ministry need not be contacted Mr. Malfoy? You are aware that Augustus Rookwood is still at large. I believe we are both well aware that given his history it is not unlikely that he might make an attempt to abduct you again?"  
  
Aware that while his Head of House was unlikely to believe his story, he would not continue to interrogate him if he confirmed his story, Draco answered, "I am certain sir."  
  
Sighing in relief as the Professor Snape took his leave, Hermione walked beside Draco as Harry pulled a stunned Ron ahead with him.  
  
As they walked along in silence, Draco considered the events that had taken place over the year and how they made him feel; the anger he had felt towards Hermione for his father's arrest; the betrayal he felt by Lucius's confessions; the despair he'd felt when captured by Bellatrix and Rookwood; and finally the helplessness he'd felt immediately following his rescue.  
  
Looking over at Hermione as she walked beside him, Draco felt peace. Only days ago he felt as if he were alone in the world. Today, when his life was in very real jeopardy, three individuals that he had tormented over the past six years had rushed to his side prepared to fight for him.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
Hermione startled when Draco spoke her name. She knew that he didn't mind her company. It was something that she could feel just as surely as she could feel the warmth of the sunshine upon her cheeks. He, however, rarely broke their silence, preferring just to be in her company without the interference of words that could lead to misunderstanding.  
  
"Do you remember when we debated the Goblin Rebellion in the hospital wing," he continued.  
  
She nodded her assent, wondering what would make him think of that at this time.  
  
"I believe that I can now appreciate your reasoning behind the Goblin's brutality," he finished vaguely as his shoulder's relaxed and an eerie smile came across his lips.

* * *

Review Responses:  
  
TheManWhoLetTheBoyLive: Glad to see that you enjoy it, hopefully this latest chapter doesn't disappoint. Wow, I'm sorry that I don't recall you, but if I at all encouraged you to write, I'm certainly happy. I know I find this to be quite therapeutic for me!  
  
HGDM lova: Yes, Harry and Hermione are a little more easy going with Draco. And Ron, what can I say. He's a bit more stubborn, but I do love him. In fact, I was feeling so bad for the abuse he takes at times, that I wrote a lil cookie for him and Hermione. I am truly a Ron lover!  
  
TigerLilly1889: Katie if I recall correctly. I'm glad that you loved the last installment. I hope that this one does not disappoint. Hehehehe, I didn't view it as a cliffie, there's certainly a bigger one coming! Glad to see you're still with me, I hope you enjoy the update!  
  
Artemis1860: Smile, yeah you did. I didn't comment to be negative though, I hope it wasn't received that well. Shoot, get your readers where you can :) I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to check your fic out yet, but I do believe that I sent you an email. if you had trouble getting it, I can be reached at gryfforin at gmail dot com. (Why does ff kill all internet addresses, it's really really annoying!)  
  



	7. Ch 6 Unspeakables

**Disclaimer: **All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion  
  
**Author's Note:** Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.  
  
**Special Thanks:** Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

**One more note: **I've gotten many questions as to why didn't Draco tell Snape about Rookwood in Hogsmeade. Draco in my mind was still wary of others. The only person he showed any faith in was Hermione, Harry and Ron got a little of that faith as an extension in her. It would have been wise to do so of course, but when in shock we don't always do the right thing.

* * *

Chapter Six - Unspeakables

Hermione sat at her desk in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries pouring through some ancient texts regarding magical essence that flows through plant life. It had been three months since she had graduated and been accepted to work with the Unspeakables. Sighing as she read the twentieth account closely resembling the Greek mythology she'd studied in her youth.  
  
"Nymphs, Dryads, Limoniads, Limniads… I might as well be reading Homer," Hermione sighed as she closed the text and placed her fingers on the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes tightly.  
  
"It appears as if your theory regarding the superiority of wizards to Muggles has been rendered invalid by this text," Hermione exclaimed, looking across the table of the library to her companion. "Wizards appeared to be as clueless about the true essence of magic running throughout nature as Muggles. I read all of this information as a child."  
  
Draco chuckled as he looked up from the text he was reading. "Hermione," he replied, "I am quite surprised. Surely you know by now that you should always check the source of your information."  
  
Hermione opened her eyes, her head cocked to the side as she looked at her research partner. Taking the book she had just been reading when he picked it up and handed it to her, she read the cover aloud, "The Magic of Nature, by Hector Omer."  
  
As realization dawned on her, Hermione groaned, "H. Omer… Homer."  
  
Chuckling, Draco took the book from her, closing it as well as his. "You will find that for every piece of information that Muggles have about our world, a witch or wizard was there to plant the seed. Come on, I think that we could both do with a break," he insisted, pulling her from her seat and leading her out of the library.  
  
After their encounter with Rookwood in Hogsmeade, Hermione had been surprised to find Draco spending his evenings revising for N.E.W.T.'s as well as filling out applications. He had never given her the impression that he would seek employment, outside of perhaps establishing some independent business ventures, as those that had been run by his father had been dissolved with his death.  
  
When asked, Draco would never tell Hermione what careers he was considering and she would not force the issue, though she was anxious to know what the wizard planned to do at the end of term. Graduation was fast approaching and she still had not spent a single day outside of his company since the unexplainable bond that drew them together had formed.  
  
As it turned out, Draco had been concerned with what would happen after graduation, as well. Initially, he had just assumed that they would see how long they could bear the separation and, if need be, acquire a flat near her residence. After his encounter with Rookwood, however, he realized that he needed to find something to keep him occupied. It would do no good to slip back into the desolation that he had found himself in after his capture. So, he applied for the same job within the Ministry as Hermione and was pleasantly surprised when he was accepted, alongside of her, despite his family ties.  
  
Hermione looked at Draco as they stepped out of the rundown phone booth that led from the Ministry into Muggle London. "Where are we going today?"  
  
Draco shrugged, wondering why she insisted on asking him the same question daily. Over the past three months, their friendship had blossomed. Companionable silence was no longer a viable option as they had to speak in order to effectively work together. As they both had to eat in order to survive, they naturally fell into taking their lunch hour together.  
  
"One would think that I Obliviated you every day. Where did I want to eat yesterday?" Draco asked, looking down at Hermione.  
  
"You didn't know," she said timidly as she lowered her eyelids in a sheepish grin.  
  
"And the day before that?" he continued, pausing until she reiterated her answer. "Now I'll give you one guess as to where I want to eat today," he continued.  
  
Hermione crossed her arms, "Fine, Malfoy, let's go to The Leaky Cauldron," she snapped, in obvious frustration, "although, it would be a nice change of pace for you to choose for once."  
  
Laughing, Draco offered her his arm before looking around to check for passersby. "I promise, Hermione," he started seriously, "if I have a strong opinion as to where we should eat one day, I will let you know." With that said, the two Disapparated with a _'pop'_.  
  
As Hermione and Draco unlinked arms and looked about the dusty pub, a smile spread across her face as her eyes fell upon her two best friends. Harry and Ron were sitting in a booth at the back of the pub, their heads lowered as they spoke intently with a dark haired man whose face she could not see.  
  
Draco groaned as she grabbed his arm to pull him in the direction of her friends. While he imagined it could be said that the four of them became even closer after coming across Rookwood at the end of last year, he still avoided dealing with Weasley whenever possible.  
  
Ron, it seemed, fancied himself some sort of guardian over Hermione. Draco had become the object of his obsession with his plans to join Hermione working as Unspeakable.  
  
He had, at least, gained enough restraint to pull Draco away from Harry and Hermione before making his suspicions known. The Slytherin had actually been surprised that he had that level of restraint. Weasley had certainly never exercised it before.  
  
"Come on, Malfoy, let's go join them," Hermione insisted, tugging him by the elbow.  
  
Draco turned to face her. "I don't know. They look as if they are otherwise occupied. Perhaps we should wait until they are finished talking with their companion."  
  
It wasn't really a lie; judging from the intent look on their faces and the fact that all three parties were bent over the table speaking in hushed whispers, Draco suspected that Weasley and Potter had not come to the Leaky Cauldron for a social call. Although he did wonder what could be so intense to require a clandestine meeting in the hub of Wizarding London. They couldn't possibly be doing working on anything sensitive for the ministry only three months into training.  
  
"Don't be silly Draco. You know very well that they are only into their third month of Auror training. It's not as if they could be meeting with an informant or anything," Hermione countered. "Now, do come on if you're coming," she insisted, before dropping his elbow and walking over towards her friends.  
  
Draco groaned and ran his fingers lightly through his hair in frustration. _'Damn that woman and this retched curse,'_ he thought, as the familiar tug in his chest urged him in her direction. "Following behind her like some damnable lapdog, father is surely rolling in his grave," he grumbled under his breath, as he quickened his strides, his words lost in the noisy din of the pubs lunch patrons.  
  
Hermione smiled inwardly as the longing in her chest eased, indicating that he had chosen to follow her. She knew that he would, since they had begun working together at the Ministry their friendship wasn't they only thing that had grown.  
  
After their first month of working together, Hermione had insisted that Draco and she needed to have a talk. It had become nearly impossible to sleep at night, her mind wandering at all hours, thinking of little else than Flooing the blond at his Manor. Perhaps what had been most frustrating for her were the appearances he began to make in her dreams.  
  
Hermione had been unable to find any rational explanation for why the young wizard was now occupying her every free thought. She couldn't deny that, as a woman, she found him to be quite handsome. In fact, handsome really was quite an understatement now that he had chosen to lose the sneer that had taken residence on his face for the majority of their years at Hogwarts. And his intelligence was incredibly sexy to her.  
  
_'Oh Merlin,'_ Hermione exclaimed mentally, as her conscious self caught up with the subconscious's train of thought. _'This will not do at all,'_ she thought, hoping that these latest observations about Draco were a product of whatever mysterious link they shared. As appealing as Draco Malfoy might have been, and as much as he might have changed his political views, at the core he was still the same Slytherin that she had faced off-against numerous times. Hermione doubted that it would be very healthy to entertain any flights of fantasy about Draco Malfoy.  
  
When they spoke the next day, Draco had confessed that he too had been having difficulty sleeping at night. After they had both grumbled about how ridiculous whatever curse they were under was, Draco had sighed in exasperation.  
  
"I suppose that we will have to secure a flat," he had offered meekly, his eyes downcast, deliberately avoiding her own.  
  
Hermione had coughed, sputtering as she tried to recover from the swallow of orange juice that had made its way into her windpipe. "Together," she had screeched incredulously. Hermione flushed slightly as the din of the small café died around them as the Muggle patrons turned to see what had caused such an outburst.  
  
"I can't move in with you, Malfoy. The Weasleys, Ron, Harry; they'll have a fit if they find out that I'm shacking up with you. Besides I elected to accept Mrs. Weasley's offer to stay at the Burrow this year in order to save money before moving out on my own. I'm not sure I can afford to pay rent as well as put aside savings."  
  
Draco lowered his voice and his head as he leaned across the table in Hermione's direction. "Listen Granger, if you think the Weasleys would prefer that I move in with them, then fine. I for one would like to sleep sometime this year and it doesn't appear as if that is going to happen so long as you're living halfway across the country from me.  
  
"If the financial details of the arrangement are your concern, don't worry. I am more than capable of paying for both flats. "  
  
Hermione opened her mouth in protest but Draco cut her off before she could speak.  
  
"I insist on it, Granger. Really, I am the one that is demanding that we both change our living arrangements. If, when you are financially able, you feel so inclined, I am sure that we can come up with an acceptable rental agreement.  
  
"As far as your boy-friends, they do not have to know. I believe that we can find a realtor that will be sensitive and discreet to our needs. It should not be difficult to find two vacant apartments that are adjacent to one another. We will simply alter the adjoining wall to suit our needs and set up our living quarters to mimic those from Hogwarts."  
  
"Master Malfoy," the cold drawl of his former Head of House snapped Draco back to the present.  
  
Hermione had led him over to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley who appeared to be dining with Professor Snape. Draco's mind started examining all the possibilities that would have drawn those three together as he replied in kind, "Professor Snape," bowing his head slightly in greeting.  
  
"I do believe that Severus is appropriate now that you have graduated. Would you care to join us?" the professor asked moving over in the booth to make room for the blond.  
  
Draco considered his options, mentally leaning towards excusing himself and taking lunch as planned with Hermione. While he wouldn't mind catching up with his old Potions Master over a meal, Weasley's presence was a significant deterrant.  
  
As he opened his mouth to decline the offer, he caught sight of the glare that Potter was throwing towards Severus. The bemused look upon the older wizard's face as he arched an eyebrow in Harry's direction was too intriguing to ignore.  
  
"We would love to join you," Draco replied, summoning a chair from a table next to theirs and offering Hermione the seat in the booth as he sat at the end of the table.  
  
"Snape," Harry hissed, "I don't think that it's a good idea for him to be involved."  
  
Severus chuckled as Ron's lips pursed and Harry's eyes narrowed in his direction. "Potter, I am surprised. I would have thought that you, of all people, would value the importance of keeping a man informed about developments that might have an effect on his personal life."  
  
"Why you greasy-haired, overgrown, blood-sucking bat…" Ron started.  
  
"While your limited vocabulary never ceases to amuse me Mr. Weasley, I do believe that Draco here should be made aware of all information regarding Augustus."  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed as he turned to look at Hermione whose eyes were intently focused on her friends across the table.  
  
"What information do you have about Rookwood?" he ground out through clenched teeth, as his eyes changed their focus to Harry sitting across from him.  
  
"Severus," Harry said sharply, "regardless of how directly the information might impact Malfoy, he is not a member of the Order. This information is confidential as you well know."  
  
Draco started to speak but Hermione cut him off.  
  
"Harry Potter! I cannot believe you can sit there and say that with a straight face. I am not even going to address why the three of you are here discussing the affairs of an organization that I had been told was dissolved,"  
  
"But 'Mione, Dumbledore said…"  
  
"Ronald Weasley, I believe that I was quite clear when I said I was not going to address that at this time.  
  
"As for you, Harry, Severus is right. Any information that you have about Rookwood should be shared with Draco. You, of all people, should be aware of what can happen when one goes off armed with partial information."  
  
Draco inwardly took notice of the quieting effect that Hermione could have on her housemates, before turning to Severus. "As you were saying…"  
  
Draco sat quietly, listening to Severus's explanation of the latest information that he had retrieved from Pansy Parkinson, of all people. Apparently, after the end of the war, she had approached her Head of House once it had been revealed that he had been working alongside of Dumbledore. Pansy had been concerned that, were the information she shared with her parents to come to light, she might be in jeopardy of serving time in Azkaban as she had been of age during her seventh year.  
  
Severus had agreed to allow her to provide him with any information that would prove useful during the Post-War cleanup in exchange for his guarantee that he would speak with Professor Dumbledore about her situation.  
  
"She couldn't possibly think that a jury would convict her for giving information about her observances at school to her parents," Draco snickered.  
  
Severus laughed with Draco. "As charming as our dear Miss Parkinson can be, no one has ever accused her of being particularly sharp."  
  
Cutting his eyes back at his former Head of House, Draco drawled, "And you felt no need to share that information with her Severus?"  
  
"Who am I to turn down a perfectly viable source of information?" Severus retorted, his eyebrows arching as his lips thinned into a smirk.  
  
Draco allowed Severus to continue without interruption. Apparently, Pansy had learned from her parents that Rookwood was still determined to capture him and take revenge for Lucius's betrayal. It appeared as if his obsession with the Malfoys had only grown in intensity, especially after receiving word that Draco had taken a position within the Ministry.  
  
Remaining silent, Draco considered all that he had heard. Dumbledore had all but dissolved his precious Order. He had kept only a few members to minimize the publicity that had come to the group at the end of the War. Apparently, he no more trusted the Ministry's competence now than he did during their fifth year when he re-formed the organization wanting to ensure that some of the more cunning Death Eaters did not manage to slip away. Augustus Rookwood was one of the wizards on the Order's watch-list. One who had made a grievous error in setting up a meeting with Pansy Parkinson to discuss the best way to get at Draco Malfoy.  
  
"So, when is the meeting?" Hermione demanded. She was still upset that she had been left out of the Order's activities, but the prospect of capturing Draco's torturer and getting one more Death Eater off the streets overshadowed any feelings of hurt that she might have felt.  
  
Harry smirked across the table at his former Professor. "Yes, Snape, do tell Hermione and Draco when the meeting is."  
  
Hermione glanced between her friend and Severus. It was obvious that Harry and the man were at odds about something, but what she could not fathom, as Snape had just informed them that Pansy would be delivering Augustus to them on the proverbial platter.  
  
"Actually, Miss Granger, I cannot tell you when the meeting is to occur. It would be very unwise of us to try and confront Rookwood at this initial meeting as he undoubtedly is suspicious of any of his former associates. Captured Death Eaters are giving up any scrap of information they think might prove useful to the Ministry, on a daily basis. Despite his apparent show of faith, I do not doubt for a minute that Augustus will be prepared for any traps that we might try and set."  
  
"So, you intend to let him walk out of there unscathed?" Hermione asked incredulously. "You have got to be kidding me."  
  
Draco exchanged a knowing look with his former Head of House before putting his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Severus is right. Do not confuse Augustus's determination with lunacy. Whatever his motives are in continuing to hunt me, he is very sane and well aware of the lack of loyalty among his former associates. We would do better to try and track him rather than confront him directly."  
  
Severus sighed, "It is nice to have a voice of reason amongst such fool-hearted bravery."  
  
Ron cut his eyes at Snape before turning to Draco. "I don't know what you meant by _'we'_ Malfoy. As Harry stated, you are not a part of the Order. The bat should have never included you in this."  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed as he turned towards Ron. "Look, Weasley. I don't know anything about your precious little Order and, honestly, I couldn't care less. What I do know is that it is _me_ that Rookwood has targeted and I'll be damned if I trust you two to keep me safe.  
  
"I trust that you will let me know when and where Pansy and Augustus intend to meet," he questioned Severus as he stood to leave. Upon receiving the older wizard's confirmation, Draco turned to Hermione. "I believe that I would prefer that we take our lunch elsewhere, perhaps a Muggle café downtown?"

* * *

Review Responses:  
  
Katie/TigerLilly: See A/N as to why he didn't tell Snape. Glad that you're still enjoying it. Sorry I haven't updated sooner. Been a bit under the weather and also working on another fic. Hopefully I'll get back to regular updates with this. As I said, it is all written, it's just making sure I remember to come back and post the updated chapters as I get them back from beta.  
  
rani singla: I will definately continue. As I said earliar, this is complete, just getting it all beta'ed before posting! Glad that you're enjoying it!  
  
littlewolfdemon1: scritches your ears I have a fondness for wolves. le sigh Sorry for that moony moment. Glad that you're enjoying the fic. And thank you for the compliments. Hope you enjoy the update!  
  
kazfeist: OMG!!! Thank you for correcting me. I love getting positive glowing "it's wonderful" reviews, does wonders for the ego, but it's nice to know someone's actually READING it, ya know. I'll try and update it in here, but this site is kinda a pain in that I have to re-upload and all that jazz. I know I corrected it the other places it's being archived. As for the overall grammar of it, thank my beta. SHE IS FANTASTIC!!!!  
  
TheManWhoLetTheBoyLive: Well if I encouraged you to write then I am glad, especially if you are finding it fulfilling. Glad that you're enjoying the story, I'll try not to let time get away from me again before the next update.  
  
  
  



	8. Ch 7 Time Apart

**Disclaimer: **All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion

**Author's Note:** Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.

**Special Thanks:** Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

**One more note: **I've gotten many questions as to why didn't Draco tell Snape about Rookwood in Hogsmeade. Draco in my mind was still wary of others. The only person he showed any faith in was Hermione, Harry and Ron got a little of that faith as an extension in her. It would have been wise to do so of course, but when in shock we don't always do the right thing.**

* * *

Chapter Seven - Time Apart**

The next two weeks were difficult on both Draco and Hermione. Although they were linked by some mysterious force, that particular piece of magic gave Hermione no power over affecting the wizard's mood.

Ever since Draco had heard about Rookwood's plans to come after him yet again he had been walking around brooding. Hermione had tried to draw him back into the research they were supposed to be focusing on for their latest assignment, however it proved ineffective.

While relaxing in their shared living room one evening Hermione decided that she'd had enough of his sour attitude. "Malfoy, I know that you are concerned about Augustus's plans, but you can't go about angry. Severus said that he would let you know what was happening as soon as he had more information."

Draco slammed the book he had been reading shut and on the table beside his chair. "And just what do you suppose I do Miss Perfect? Am I to sit around waiting for Rookwood to decide that he's ready to strike again with the hope that he chooses to include Pansy in his plans?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she calmly set aside the work that she had brought home. "I do understand that you are rightfully upset Draco, but if you think that I am going to sit around here and act as your whipping post, you are sadly mistaken."

Draco watched as she rose from the table and summoned her briefcase, depositing the parchments and books that she had brought home inside before retiring to her room. Frustrated at his lack of control over the situation, Draco rose to go and pour himself a glass of wine.

He had returned to his place before the fire, again trying to focus enough to read his book but failing miserably. His head shot up as he heard Hermione's door close and her re enter the room. Looking up to apologize he could not speak as she stood before him her bags packed.

"Draco, I know that we didn't have much success the last time we stayed apart but I cannot bear to watch you like this. You're negativity is more than I can stand. I think that it would do both of us some good if I went to the Burrow for a while."

"Hermione, I'm sorry. Please don't leave," Draco replied, fearing how much his mood would darken if he were to add a lack of sleep onto the heap of problems he was currently dealing with due to Hermione's absence.

Hermione sighed as she looked at the blond wizard. "No Draco, I've made up my mind. I know that it will be hard, but at least we are working together, we will still see each other daily and we can discuss a way to break this bond tomorrow over lunch.

"We really should have explored our options last year at Hogwarts, I simply cannot imagine how we can expect to spend the rest of our lives attached when we don't even have a viable friendship to speak of."

"If you're sure, you don't have to leave. I can return to the Manor and you can stay here."

Hermione considered his offer briefly before shaking her head, "No, I think it would do me well to go and spend some time with the Weasleys. I really have not seen them since I moved out and I think that some time under Molly's wing would help me put things in their proper perspective."

That night Draco spent tossing and turning without the comforting presence of Hermione in the next room. His dreams were scattered with images of Rookwood tending to his broken body as he promised him of the abuse that was soon to follow. Throughout the night as he slipped in and out of sleep, the dreams changed. His dreams took on the appearance of the photos that he had seen in his History of Magic texts while at Hogwarts.

When he finally rose, his eyes heavy from a night of restless sleep, Draco looked in the mirror and a voice from his dreams greeted him. _'You will be known throughout history as Draco the Dreaded,'_ the voice had spoken to him, before handing him a battle axe and helmet. A devious smile crept across his lips as Draco hurriedly prepared himself for his day.

Draco owled the office to notify them that he would be coming in late. Setting the appropriate wards on the flat, Draco affixed his cloak and Disapparated.

As he walked down the path that led to Potter's residence at Godrics Hollow, Draco considered what exactly he would say to him. Sure he and Potter had put aside a lot of animosity last year, but they still were not exactly best mates.

When he reached the door he still had not determined what he was going to say. As he reached up to knock, any coherent thought that might have been running through his head was erased as The Weasel and Loony Lovegood fell out of the door their lips locked together.

Luna broke their kiss as her ice blue eyes fell upon Draco. Blushing as she spoke she said, "Sorry, Draco Malfoy right?"

Mumbling a response of, "Quite all right," Draco strode past the couple. "I'm just going to go find Potter," he added as he stepped into the house.

He snickered as he walked through the two Auror's home. If Draco had taken the time to consider what Harry and Ron's flat would have looked like, this would have definitely been it.

There were Quidditch magazines littering the coffee table along side of empty bottles of butter beer. Several different robes and cloaks had been carelessly strewn across the back of the couches.

When he entered the kitchen he was greeted by the site of stacks of files and mail piled on the kitchen table. Harry was sitting before a breakfast of kippers, fried tomatoes, toast, and boiled egg.

"You do know one of the benefits of being a wizard is that you can use magic to tidy up," Draco drawled drawing Harry's attention away from dunking a strip of toast into his egg yolk.

Picking up a napkin to wipe his mouth, Harry stood and turned to greet his former schoolmate. "To what do I owe the pleasure Malfoy," he asked calmly, crossing the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee. "Can I offer you a cuppa?"

Draco walked into the kitchen, clearing some files off of a chair to take a seat. "Don't mind if I do Potter."

Harry walked over to the cupboard to fetch another coffee mug as he flicked his wand absently causing the water to boil and percolate through the coffee grounds. Pouring a cup for Draco and himself, he returned to the table next to Malfoy and sat down.

"So Malfoy, what are you doing here," Harry asked as he set his cup down to cool. "Somehow I doubt that you came by for a cuppa and a taste of Luna's fry up."

Draco took a long sip of the coffee, the bitterness of it invigorating him before looking at Harry.

"Actually Potter, I was rather hoping that we might be able to help each other."

Harry raised an eyebrow and raised the coffee cup to his lips. "Possibly Malfoy, but first you need to tell me why Granger showed up at the Burrow last night."

Recognizing the shock on Draco's face he chuckled. "Surely you didn't think that Hermione wouldn't tell me about her new living arrangements. We've been friends for too long. I knew that something was wrong when she told me she was moving from the Weasleys."

Draco shifted in his seat uncomfortable under Harry's gaze. "I must say Potter, I'm surprised that you and the Weasel haven't been by to hex me as of yet."

"Not that the thought didn't cross my mind," Harry laughed, "but Ron doesn't know. Hermione managed to convince him that she just felt as if she needed her independence after all. And while I'm not so sure how I feel about whatever is going on between you and Hermione, she's not a witch that is exactly receptive to being told what to do, no matter what the intention is.

"I can only assume that you all have had some sort of falling out and that is what led to her leaving?"

Draco sighed as he set his cup back down to the table. "Look Potter, I'm not sure what Hermione told you about our living arrangements, but I am pretty sure that whatever you _think_ is going on between us is far from the mark. Hermione essentially left because I've been a bit unbearable lately."

Harry's hand flew to his mouth to prevent his coffee from spilling onto the table as he sputtered. "Malfoy, while I do not doubt your assessment, I am amazed to hear you speak so freely about your social challenges. So you've been brewing around acting like the prat that you are as of late. Let me guess, Rookwood?"

Draco nodded before allowing his mouth to turn slightly. "You know Potter, I thought that you Gryffindors were supposed to show some compassion. You needn't have agreed with me so readily."

Harry chuckled, "You have us confused with Hufflepuffs. Gryffindor bravery calls for telling the absolute truth, no matter how hard it might be for one to hear."

Ignoring Draco's look of indignation, Harry sobered. "Look Malfoy, I really do understand what it feels like to lie around and wait for some lunatic. I've been there before. But I meant what I said in the Leaky Cauldron, Snape shouldn't have told you about Rookwood and I will not involve you in Order business.

"I'm sorry if you feel I've wasted your time, but I think it would be best that you leave now, I can't help you."

As Harry stood to clear the table of his breakfast which had now grown cold, Draco's voice stopped him.

"Harry, this isn't about Rookwood. I am well aware of your position on that and while I do not respect it, I am intelligent enough to know that I can't change it. I just need to be doing _something._

"I happen to know that you and Weasley have been making a lot of noise down at the Ministry about the trivial assignments you have been given while in training. I thought that perhaps you could use the assistance of someone not bound by the Auror's protocol."

Harry sat back down and raised an eyebrow at Draco. "You've got my attention. What assistance do you think this individual might be able to provide?"

Draco smiled. Though he had struggled with how to breach the topic with Harry, he hadn't been too concerned with whether he would be amenable to the idea.

Potter had spent seven years in and out of trouble because he couldn't stand to wait around until someone felt that he was ready to handle his destiny. Now that he was an adult, Draco doubted he would take to coddling any better than in his youth.

"Hypothetically speaking," Draco asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Of course," Harry responded, grinning.

Harry had been thoroughly impressed when Draco explained the number of resources at his disposal given his position within the Ministry. The position of an Unspeakable was not a particularly exciting one. Generally it involved a lot of research and paper work.

The reason the position was special was that they handled the most delicate forms of research within the Ministry, consequently granted access to nearly all of the information housed within the government. It didn't take much for Draco to convince Harry how beneficial that information could be to him in researching some of the cases the Auror's were having trouble with bringing to closure.

"I do believe that we might be able to work something out," Harry replied carefully. "Though I can't help but wonder, what do you get out of this?"

_'What indeed,'_ Draco thought. He hadn't a firm grip on exactly what he was looking to get out of this exchange with Potter. He just knew that he needed to feel like he was _doing_ something; something more than sitting behind a desk.

An eerie smile crept across Malfoy's face as realization struck. "Potter, I'm sure that in order to guarantee closure to some of these cases, it might be useful to have someone that might be able to confront the suspect without the… _burden_ of Ministry policy."

"And you feel that you would be a good person to play this role," Harry questioned. "I'll admit, I have no doubt that you would be very effective in acquiring additional information that might prove beneficial through less than conventional means. And I'm well aware of your aptitude for using the appropriate level of discretion. But, I never had you pegged for the type that wished to run about chasing down criminals. Why do you want to do this?"

Draco paused, considering whether or not he wished to confess his motives to Potter. He was after all a Gryffindor and his motives might be considered less than honorable. But as he looked across at the man, he realized that though he would not care to admit it, Potter was probably the only person that could truly understand what he was going through right now.

"Potter, with the news about Rookwood let's just say I'm feeling a little bit..."

"Tense," Harry offered.

"Savage, reprehensible, barbaric," Draco corrected him, pleased when he saw Harry's smile of recognition.

"If I can't do anything but wait for Augustus to make his move, I would like to feel as if I am doing something. Sitting around researching natural magic just isn't doing that for me."

When Draco returned to the Ministry, Hermione relaxed as a wave of calm spread over her. She had barely slept at all the previous night. It had been many months since she and Draco had been apart and the longing she felt for his presence had only increased.

Hermione's dreams had been disturbingly vivid; images of her and Draco haunting the witch much of the night. The dreams had been in a way very innocent, but yet as she watched herself interact with Draco, it had been too intimate. It had been similar to watching herself with Harry and Ron during their days at Hogwarts, but more.

By about three in the morning, Hermione resigned herself to the fact that she would not receive any quality sleep and decided to get up. Unable to focus on reading, or even writing in her beloved journal, she pulled on a night robe and went downstairs.

Pulling out a kettle and some tea leaves, Hermione set the water to boil. As she sat down to the table, she heard footsteps descending the stair case.

"Ahh dearie, I thought I heard you up," Molly Weasley smiled as she pulled her robe together. "Excellent, I do believe that I could use a cup of tea as well."

Hermione looked at Molly's face, the ghost of sleep still clinging to her eyes. She obviously had not woken on her own accord.

"I'm terribly sorry if I disturbed you Mrs. Weasley…"

The older witch tutted as she shooed Hermione's apology with her hand. "Call me Molly dear. You are no longer some school girl and as much as I love you like a daughter, I would hope that we are also to some degree friends," she questioned, flicking her wand to pour the water over the tea leaves to steep.

"To tell you the truth Hermione, I knew that something was wrong when you decided to come by so suddenly to stay. Judging from the lines on your face, I think that you could use a friend tonight."

Hermione sighed. Molly was right. She would give anything right about now for Ginny to be home so that she could confess something she had been trying to deny for so long. But the thought of discussing her relationship with Draco Malfoy with Ron's mother seemed as far from therapy as one could get.

Mrs. Weasley interrupted her thoughts with a soft chuckle before launching into the motherly tone her mother had used so many times as she was growing up. "I know it might be hard to believe Hermione, but I am a woman before a mother. And it doesn't take a genius to see that some wizard has got you pretty well twisted.

"I can only imagine the horror stories that you have heard from my children, but I assure you that the way a woman treats her children and the way she treats her friends are two different things."

Hermione didn't know what possessed her. She of course knew that it was only reasonable that Molly Weasley had at some point in her lifetime dealt with difficult relationships, if not personally then through her friends. But that fact alone was not enough to propel her to launch into such a confession. Perhaps she had just kept her secret too long and could no longer hold it. Whatever the reason was, she found herself confessing to Molly the reasons for her move.

"Living with him is just… unbearable. He's spoiled, sarcastic, and as of late damn near impossible to be in the same room with. I don't know what made me think that we could possibly live together for any amount of time," Hermione exclaimed, her face turning red.

Molly watched the young girl intently, allowing her to verbalize her frustrations without interruption. She suppressed the urge to laugh as Hermione danced around what Mrs. Weasley knew from years of experience to be the true issue. She also knew well enough that if Hermione was not ready to discuss what was truly troubling her, that no amount of urging would get her to do so.

As silence fell in the kitchen, Molly stood to go and fetch the tea that had been steeping and returned with a cup for Hermione and herself. The two witches sat and drank the calming brew in silence for a few moments before she spoke.

"While I can imagine that you would feel somewhat stressed at being forced to move due to situations beyond your control, I assure you that I am not so naïve to believe that is what led you back here after nearly three months.

"I'm not going to pressure you for more information dear, you'll tell someone when you're ready. But let me give you this bit of advice. You can lie to many people, but you cannot lie to yourself."

* * *

Review Responses: 

HGDMLova: Thanks for the review. Snape is Snape, but I must say I've developed a fondness for the snarky potions master.

Artemis1860: I am sorry that it took so long to update, it was not intentional. The rest of the chapters should be up very shortly.

kazfeist: here is more, and the rest should soon follow!

hoofservannt: I'm glad that you are enjoying it. Here's the update

RiahDragonHeart: Wow, pretty straight forward review. I'm so glad that you are enjoying.

Katie: I think you'll like how Ron ends up. It's been a while since I've written this, so I'm not sure what chapter it's in, but I get tired of the Ron bashing in fanfic, so I hope that I properly redeem him!

Michelle: Thank you for the wonderful compliment. Reviews are frustrating, although I will say readers here do a much better job of reviewing than at some other archives that shall remain nameless :) I hope you enjoy the update.


	9. Ch 8 Testing the Bond

**Disclaimer: **All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion

**Author's Note:** Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.

**Special Thanks:** Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

**

* * *

Chapter Eight - Testing the Bond**

Draco returned to the office feeling much better than he had in some time. For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he felt as if he had a purpose that was his own. Potter might think that he would be able to keep Draco from Rookwood but Potter wasn't a Slytherin. Draco knew that Snape would involve him once the time was appropriate, but until then he would have to bide his time. Certainly, helping Potter track down some of the other war criminals would prove to be more satisfying than waiting idly. It had to be.

Hermione didn't bother to look up when he entered the room. She had felt his presence from the moment he Apparated outside of the Ministry's telephone booth and immediately felt relieved. She did not, however, want him to know how uneasy his absence had proved, choosing instead to focus on the report in front of her.

They worked in silence well into their normal lunch hour. Draco was unsure of how to breach the uncomfortable silence between them and Hermione was unwilling. And so, as opposed to finding the words to discuss what had led to Hermione's departure last night, each simply settled for the inexplicable satisfaction that togetherness brought.

It was well into the afternoon before Draco set aside his quill and ink to address Hermione. "All right, Granger, I think we have both avoided this for long enough. I do believe that you wanted to discuss finding a way to break whatever _curse_ we've been burdened with?"

Containing her urge to wince at the snide tone used to convey his words, Hermione raised her head as she set her face. Offering him a half-smile before speaking, Hermione replied smartly, "Malfoy, I do believe that is one of the most useful things I've ever heard you say."

Simultaneously, Hermione and Draco rose and retrieved their cloaks, neither feeling that their office was an appropriate location for the coming discussion. As they stepped out onto the street, Hermione turned to Draco. She had to suppress the urge to smile knowingly and ask him where to eat; the routine had become so embedded in her. Before Hermione could speak, Draco raised his wand and indicated a small Muggle café located nearby before Disapparating with a _'pop';_ Hermione soon followed.

The start of lunch was barely cordial. Neither Draco nor Hermione cared to admit the fact that the only desire either had was for her to return home and make the intolerable yearning go away. It had only been one night, but it was more painful than all of the nights they'd spent apart since graduation.

Hermione decided to approach the subject quite calmly and rationally. "I do believe, Malfoy, that we are not making matters any better by sharing our living quarters. At best, we are allowing our tolerance, to whatever discomfort we experience when apart, to lessen. Entirely more likely is that we are strengthening the bond, making it more difficult for us to part.

"I think that we would be wise to plan on going back to our previous living arrangements. We are doing nothing more than setting ourselves up for disaster when we truly _have_ to part company."

Draco listened to her words and could not find any fault with her logic. But he still did not like the idea. He couldn't have articulated his objections if he tried, but they were there. Pushing aside his opposition to Hermione's suggestion, Draco spoke.

"Perhaps you are correct. I don't want you to feel as if you have to move out though. As I stated before, I can easily return to the Manor and leave you with the flat, if you prefer. The lease has been paid in advance for the year, so you needn't concern yourself with that."

Hermione hesitated. She was an independent witch and hated to think of accepting such an offer. However, the thought of returning to the Burrow under Molly's questioning gaze was harrowing to say the least.

"That would be very kind of you if you are sure you don't mind. I had rather grown accustomed to my independence and sleeping in Ginny's twin canopy bed amidst her assorted stuffed hippogriffs and diricawls is a bit odd to say the least."

Draco's face eased as he let out a laugh, "Weasley still sleeps with stuffed animals? I would have thought that she had grown out of that by now."

The rest of their lunch slipped into the comfortable banter each had grown accustomed to since they began working at the Ministry. Draco made some questionable remarks about how much Ginny had matured over the years and Hermione scolded him appropriately. Both wished that they could forget the previous night but were too prideful to admit it.

"Well, I suppose that we should get back to the Ministry," Draco offered, as the conversation ended in abrupt silence. "You can return this evening. I'll send word to the elves at the Manor to fetch my things this afternoon."

Hermione smiled graciously as she thanked him for his consideration.

In the weeks immediately following Draco's departure, Hermione felt more alone than she had her entire life. As hurt as she'd been by her parents' deaths, not even that tragic event made her feel the emptiness that had been left by Draco's absence.

To make matters worse, he had taken two weeks leave in order to tend to 'private affairs'. Initially, her evenings were spent writing in her journal, trying to process all of her emotions. Because she was unwilling to admit that she did miss Draco, however, Hermione could make neither heads nor tails of the situation.

Abandoning introspection for research, Hermione began to comb through old texts brought home from the Ministry's library in search of ancient spells bonding individuals together against their will.

It had been after the first week, Hermione hitting dead ends at every turn as she tried to find some spell to explain the past year, that Harry popped in on her one day, insisting that they grab a bite to eat.

Hermione raised her head, eyes darkened from the fretful 'sleep' she had managed to get over the past week.

"Thank you, Harry, but I really have a lo..."

Harry shook his head. He'd been working with Draco over the past week and noticed a bedraggled appearance that he now saw mirrored in his best friend.

"Hermione Granger, would you deny your oldest friend the presence of your company at lunch?" Harry asked as he folded his arms across his chest and allowed the corners of his mouth to fall into an exaggerated pout.

Looking up at her friend, Hermione couldn't help but smile. "Do try not to pout, Harry, it doesn't suit you."

Sighing, Hermione grabbed her cloak and swung it around her shoulders. "Where would you like to go?'

Harry grinned brightly and threaded her arm through his own. "Someplace that I think we'll both enjoy, Honeydukes."

Hermione laughed. "Harry, that's ridiculous. Firstly, Honeydukes is all the way in Hogsmeade-"

"And to think I thought that you were a witch? You do remember Apparation, right?" Harry responded, a grin on his face.

Hermione shook her head, not able to let go of the fact that a trip to Hogsmeade in the middle of the day was not practical, regardless of how fast they could get there. "Fine, but Honeydukes isn't lunch."

Smiling at his friend, Harry took Hermione's hands in his own. "I know that you were raised by dentists, 'Mione, but even you at some point of your life must have experienced the delight that candy has to offer.

"To speak plainly, you look like you need something to take the edge off and I'm hoping that the familiarity of Hogsmeade, with a heavy dose of chocolate, will do the trick."

Harry noticed the hesitation in her eyes and put on his 'pout' once again. "C'mon 'Mione, I'll even treat you to a butterbeer. Besides, I have to go by Fred and George's shop soon or they'll have my head."

Hermione laughed again as she looked at Harry's face. "If only to wipe that pathetic look off your face... yes."

Hermione laughed as Harry's face lit up and they, once again, linked arms, Apparating into Hogsmeade.

As Harry was guiding Hermione about Hogsmeade, Draco was back in Wizarding London. Ron and Harry had been given a case involving one of their former classmates who apparently found it amusing to reveal his magic to Muggles before Obliviating them.

It really was quite ridiculous the constraints that the Aurors had to work under. For a case that seemed so simple, so straightforward, Draco knew exactly how the situation needed to be handled.

The wizard was a relatively upstanding member of society. He ran a rundown inn for those with limited means. Draco was quite sure the simple threat of long-standing ramifications for his hobby would be enough to put him to bed. But no, according to protocol, Harry and Ron were expected to uselessly follow the man, waiting to catch him in the act and arrest him, truly a waste of resources.

Draco strolled into the inn and approached the owner.

"Mr. Slaugh?" he questioned, taking in the small, rounded man who appeared nearly hidden behind his large- rimmed glasses.

"Wh- wh- what can I do for you?" the wizard asked.

Draco understood his hesitation. His establishment was barely reputable and he certainly would not be accustomed to receiving patrons of Draco's ilk on a daily basis. Of course, Draco was not a patron either and cleared his throat to respond.

"I do believe," Draco drawled, as he removed his gloves from his hands, "that you would be more interested in knowing what I can do for you.

Draco allowed the ghost of a smile to cross his lips as the innkeeper briefly raised an eyebrow after his eye darted down to the emerald bearing the Malfoy crest on Draco's pinkie finger.

"It appears as if you have quite an _interesting_ pastime, Mr. Slaugh. Some of my associates are currently conducting an investigation to see that you are justly compensated for your actions."

The wizard's eyes darted back and forth, before retreating up and to the right. Draco gave Mr. Slaugh's feeble mind time to process his words, looking around the dusty lobby. Chuckling Draco wondered how many questionable activities the man was a participant in.

"Mr. Slaugh, I am here to give you one, and only one, warning. The Ministry does not look kindly upon individuals revealing their magic to Muggles, neither by intent nor accident. Furthermore, it is unacceptable to go about casting Obliviate when one does.

"Now, I have assured my colleagues that you are a reasonable man. I would expect that, after our talk, the British Ministry should not expect to receive any more alerts causing one to question your motivations."

The man looked at Draco, silent, before a smile crossed his lips.

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," the man responded, vocalizing his recognition of the crest upon Draco's finger. "I'll be sure not to give the _British_ Ministry cause for concern."

Draco smiled to himself as he excused himself from the shop. He doubted that Harry would find his solution to the problem to be acceptable. But he doubted that Harry and he would ever see eye to eye as to how problems were to be solved. They certainly didn't when it came to Augustus Rookwood.

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were having a wonderful time wandering about the small settlement of Hogsmeade. Laughing as they wandered the streets, Hermione felt the tug of nostalgia as part of her wished that she were still a student living within the confines of Hogwarts.

Of course, she and her friends had thought they were quite mature while they were there. Working every year to defeat Voldemort and protect Harry from the Dark Wizard served to inflate the typical teenage attitude that they should be treated as an adult. But now, living in her own apartment, working with individuals that discredited her intelligence for her age, and not having the comforting presence of Albus Dumbledore to make her feel as if it would all work out in the end, let her know just how much like children they had been.

"Hermione," Harry interrupted her reverie, "do me a favor while we're here, let's just have fun. I don't want you lecturing the twins or carrying on about how foolish I'm behaving. I need a break from the real world and I can see that you do as well, even if you won't admit it."

Laughing, Hermione inwardly sighed in relief. Honestly, she could do with a day of fun, even if she weren't known for it. "All right, Harry. But from the sounds of it, I should notify the Ministry that I won't be returning."

"Don't worry about that, 'Mione," a familiar voice called, as Ron Weasley approached with Luna Lovegood. "It's already taken care of."

Hermione looked between Ron and his girlfriend. _'What is she doing here? It's not a Hogsmeade weekend is it? Of course not,'_ Hermione answered her own question, after all it wasn't even the weekend.

"It's good to see you, Luna, but shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

Ron smiled at Luna, as if to say 'I told you so.'

Harry laughed. "Apparently, Luna decided that, with the defeat of Voldemort behind us, she didn't really feel as if she had a need to continue her studies at Hogwarts."

Hermione shook her head. She'd always known that Luna had a different perspective on much of reality, but she had been sorted into Ravenclaw, surely she saw the value in education.

Turning back towards Ron, Hermione pursed her lips and shook her head slowly, tears forming in her eyes as she considered how long it had taken her to notice what was going on in his life.

"Oi 'Mione, that pleased to see me, are you?"

The familiar ache in her chest was still present, but the sight of her two best friends, here in Hogsmeade, was enough to put the sensation to the back of her mind.

Hermione should never have allowed Draco's presence in her life to alienate her from her friends. Harry had told her that he understood, but she doubted that he did. Ron was, thankfully, too busy with Luna to notice much outside of his relationship and work.

Hermione looked back to Ron before smiling at Luna, not wanting to ignore her presence. Luna had never acted as such, but Hermione had enough sense, after the _'Cho incident'_ in fourth year, to show her friends love interests the proper respect, even if they were often clueless about it.

Throwing her arms up to wrap them around Ron's neck, Hermione slapped him lightly on the back of his head. "Of course I'm happy to see you, Ron. It's been too long, hasn't it?"

Ron squeezed her playfully before lifting her off the ground.

"Way too long, why haven't you been round 'Mione? You know that it's dangerous to leave two bachelors to our own devices for too long. Even that git Malfoy has been by since you have..."

Hermione's eyes flashed at the mention of Draco before she regained her composure. Looking behind her two friends, she was pleased to see that they both were clean and in clothing that could be considered matching - though a bit eclectic.

"Oh, I don't know, Ron, it appears as if Luna is making sure things don't get too out of hand. Tell me, how much longer do you plan on being a bachelor?" Hermione teased, as she winked at Harry.

The day turned celebratory as Ron pulled out Luna's hand and tapped his wand to her ring finger, casting a revealing spell. They traveled first to Fred and George's shop where Harry disappeared into the back with George as Hermione and Luna conspired over what pranks they should try on Ron.

Draco arrived at Godric's Hollow several hours later to meet Potter as had been agreed. He hadn't been looking forward to the inevitable confrontation that always came when he and Weasley were within arms reach of each other. While tracking down the trivial criminals, that Potter and Weasley had been assigned to, proved to be distracting, it was not enough to take the edge off of his desire to get at Rookwood or the relentless ache that he'd felt since moving back to the Manor.

Hermione had been right. The pain had dulled to the point where he could sleep at night, though the dreams that came with that sleep were discouraging in their own right.

As Potter opened the door to let Draco in, he quickly grabbed the blond wizard's arm as he nearly doubled over in pain. "Ron!" he called sharply from the entryway into their home, "Come help me."

Draco gritted his teeth as he tried to stand erect again, pulling his arm away, "Let me go, Potter!"

Ron, arriving at the doorway and seeing the struggle that Draco was presenting against Harry's grasp, rushed to firmly lock Malfoy's arm in his grip. "Oh no, you don't, Malfoy," he said, as he helped Harry pull the wizard into the kitchen.

"You idiots, where is she?" Draco demanded, as they sat him in the chair, his hands landing heavily on the table to thrust himself back up.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Harry asked, holding Ron back from physically restraining him again.

"Something's wrong! We've got to find her," was all that Draco said, before grabbing his wand and Apparating away from Godric's Hollow.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron asked, looking at Harry with utter confusion. "Why were you holding Malfoy back just now and why did you let him go?"

Harry sighed in exasperation. He now regretted agreeing not to let Ron in on Hermione's living arrangement as right now it was slowing him down. Turning to Ron, his eyes set and determined, he said, "Ron, I can't explain it all right now. Just suffice it to say that Hermione is in danger and we've got to find out where Malfoy's gone."

Draco Apparated first to Ministry Headquarters. It was very unlike Hermione to take time off. Harry had told him earlier that he was taking her to Hogsmeade for the afternoon so he figured she would return to put in some late hours. As soon as he arrived at the phone booth outside, however, the aching in his chest told him otherwise.

Disapparating with a _'pop'_, the ache dulled as Draco found himself outside of their flat. Where, before, he had felt a constricting pressure in his chest threatening to crush some vital yet metaphysical organ, he now simply felt a driving rhythm resonating throughout him as if his heart were beating hard and fast. Looking up the stairwell that led to their flat, Draco gripped his wand before taking the steps two at a time.

Draco had been careful not to Apparate directly into their flat because, if she were in danger, he did not want any other parties to be notified of his arrival. As he slowed down and struggled to regulate his breathing amongst the drumming in his ears, Draco noted that the door to their apartment had been left ajar.

When Draco stopped to listen, he heard nothing coming from the apartment and quietly pushed the door open, holding the wand in close to his body, ready to defend himself if necessary. When he stepped inside, the room was indeed empty, but a cold chill greeted him as a familiar scent invaded his senses. _Rookwood._


	10. Ch 9 To Hell and Back

**Disclaimer: **All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion

**Author's Note:** Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.

**Special Thanks:** Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

**

* * *

Chapter Nine – To Hell and Back**

Hermione watched in fascination as the red ink spread across the fine column of porcelain that she held in her hand. It was really quite beautiful; the precision of the swirling spirals, each revolution turning slightly, every subsequent twist placed equidistant from the former.

Once she had completed the last embellishment on her piece, Hermione set down her instrument and began to lightly trace the rounded trails of ink across her artwork. Lifting her finger, now covered in a thick coat of scarlet, Hermione's eyes grew in horror as the vibrant red that she had been using deadened before her eyes. Hints of black crept into the ink, which now seemed to thicken.

Hermione looked back to her piece to find that the lines of red she had seen before now appeared as wells holding the same thick substance. She reached out cautiously to again trace the trails, to find the cold porcelain she had been working on was now soft and warm. It felt like-

Looking up from the graceful symmetric spirals that decorated her art, Hermione screamed.

Hermione's gaze dropped from Pansy's face to find the witch's chest, shoulders, and arms covered in shallow wells where crimson blood now pooled. Covering her mouth in horror, Hermione glanced at the thin surgical blade by her side, which was marred with bloodied fingerprints. As Hermione observed her own hands, she could see where the pads of her fingertips were now coated.

Breathing heavily, Hermione's eyes darted back and forth. As she spun from her place beside Pansy on the bed to run out of the room, she saw him and the memories came flooding back.

Hermione had just returned to her flat from an afternoon spent in Hogsmeade with Harry, Ron, and Luna who had offered to return with her. "The boys can't seem to leave their work at the office and I'm sure they will be locked in the study most of the evening," she had insisted, but Hermione politely refused. After all, there was only so much Loony she could be expected to tolerate in a day.

It had been but a quarter of an hour at the most since Hermione arrived home, when someone was knocking at the door to her flat. Living with Draco had insured that her home was heavily warded, preventing even her friends from Apparating directly inside.

"Who is it?" Hermione called, as she walked towards the door in a pair of sweat pants.

She would have never guessed that it was Pansy Parkinson on the other side of the door had she not cast a revealing charm making the door appear translucent when she heard her reply.

Hermione had no idea why Pansy would be calling, but she certainly wasn't in the mood for dealing with her right now. Ending the revealing charm, Hermione turned her back from the door without responding.

"Granger," Pansy's insistent voice called, "I think that you should really let me in. I have some information on someone that I believe you and your _colleague_ would be quite interested in.

Hermione stopped to consider the other witch's words from outside of the door. Despite her co-operation with the Potions master at Hogwarts, Hermione still had little trust in the Slytherins. It was not difficult to see why Pansy was making efforts to align herself with Snape; she was trying to save herself from Azkaban.

Weighing all possible options, Hermione sighed, "Parkinson, I'll let you in, but if you do anything to remotely put me off, I will not hesitate to hex you into oblivion."

_'It's not as if I can't handle her,'_ Hermione thought, as she lowered the wards and opened the door.

When Hermione saw the fear in Pansy's eyes, she immediately regretted her decision. She had not taken note of her expression when looking through the door, only casting the charm to validate that she had correctly identified the unlikely voice calling from outside.

Hermione had no chance, and Pansy was too frightened to react, when Rookwood stepped out from where he'd been hiding and disarmed Hermione. His mouth turning upward into a smile, the Death Eater incanted _'Impedimenta',_ immobilizing Hermione before doing the same to Pansy.

"If it isn't the remarkable Hermione Granger," Rookwood drawled, as he crossed the room to ply her hand and lift it to his lips before turning as if in disgust to spit at Pansy.

"I must say, you became somewhat notable in your own right due to your relationship with Harry Potter during Voldemort's reign. Of course, I have had the opportunity to personally observe you since then.

"When I happened across the little traitor in Hogsmeade last year, I must admit that you and your cohorts were the last that I would expect to have come to his aide. Surely there's a limit to even Gryffindor naivety."

Unable to move or respond to the wizard's remarks, Hermione concentrated on trying to find a way out of her predicament, following him with her eyes as best as she could as he circled the room.

"Well, I must say things appear to have worked out better than I could have imagined," Rookwood chuckled.

"I had rather hoped that you and young Malfoy had remained close. I knew that you worked together within the Ministry but didn't know whether your relationship was such that you would prove adequate bait for the boy," Rookwood continued, returning to the front of the room to face Hermione once again.

Absently flicking his wand and removing the charm that immobilized her, Rookwood braced himself as Hermione flew at him, seeking to knock him off of his feet. Grasping her wrists, he cast a binding charm to prevent her from making a repeated attempt while leaving her free to answer his questions.

"I must say that I'm disappointed, Miss Granger. I had rather hoped that we could be civilized about this. Despite my associations, I've never been one to relish in violence. Although, I would imagine given how close you and Malfoy appear to have become, he's already told you the care I took to ensure that he remained healthy while in my care."

Hermione's mind reeled as she processed Rookwood's commentary. _'What would give him the impression that Malfoy and I were close?'_ she asked herself. They had been careful not to divulge any more information about their relationship than necessary. In fact, Harry was the only person, to her knowledge, that was aware that they were living together.

"I'm not sure I understand what you are going on about," Hermione replied calmly, setting her face so as not to betray her words. "Malfoy and I are merely forced to tolerate each other's presence as we are colleagues. I would hardly call my association with the son of my parents' murderer - _'close'_."

"So brilliant, yet stupid at the same time," Augustus laughed. "Surely you do not expect me to believe that you are not close to the wizard whom you live with?" he questioned, before striding past her towards the mantle above the fireplace.

Hermione shuffled her feet to turn around as he crossed the room. As her eyes tracked the direction in which he was headed, she gasped. _'The charm; Draco left the charm,'_ she realized, as the small bundle of herbs, leaves, and Draco's hair caught her attention from its place on the mantle.

Augustus looked back at Hermione as he reached the mantle, "So glad to see that you've caught up, Miss Granger. While I had planned on taking you ladies back to Miss Parkinson's flat, perhaps we should simply find something to occupy our time until Master Malfoy returns; if you would be so kind as to show us to your room?"

Hermione assessed her situation quickly before acknowledging she was in no position to resist. Without her wand or the likelihood that Draco would choose today to show up at the flat, her best option was to go along with Augustus until an opportunity presented itself. As she shuffled back to the bedroom, the wizard levitated Pansy's immobilized body behind her.

"What do you intend to do with me?" Hermione questioned flatly, after being shoved to the bed by Rookwood.

"I would not be too concerned, Miss Granger. While I do not care much for Mudbloods or Ministry officials, you prove of little interest to me," Augustus replied coolly.

"Fine, so you intend to use me as bait for Draco. You _do_ know that he doesn't live here anymore? He left the charm as an oversight, I'm sure."

Rookwood raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps you tell the truth, Miss Granger. Regardless, I cannot break the wards at Malfoy Manor."

"So why don't you use _her_ again?" Hermione questioned, cutting her eyes to the Slytherin witch lying beside her.

Laughing, Rookwood clapped his hands. "Ahhh, I do so enjoy watching the dynamic between witches. To answer your question, Miss Parkinson made it evident that I cannot trust her to aid me in a discreet manner. I would not have solicited her aid for this task had I not been confident that the Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry would be sufficiently dissuasive from performing some heroic act in trying to warn you of our arrival."

Catching the look of disbelief in Hermione's eyes, Augustus continued. "Yes, Miss Granger, I was aware that Pansy contacted Severus following our conversation. Surely you did not believe that she was able to contact Professor Snape without someone finding out? The illustrious Order must realize that those of us that are still loyal to the purification of the Wizarding world are keeping a close eye on those that betrayed us."

Hermione pushed the questions railing through her head to the side and again addressed her captor. "So, just what do you intend to do with us in the meanwhile?"

"Now, that is an excellent question, Miss Granger. As I've stated, I do not take my pleasure in physical acts of violence, yet I feel that Miss Parkinson must pay for daring to go against me."

Hermione felt a sense of deep foreboding as she witnessed a cruel smile begin to form across Augustus's lips. The last clear memory she could grasp was that of him incanting _"Imperio."_

At some point in time Augustus must have released Hermione's bindings, as her memories were splattered with visions of carving Pansy's flesh in a trance-like state before waking again in horror to see what grievous acts her hands had created at Augustus's bidding.

As the memories flashed through Hermione's mind of her slipping in and out of Rookwood's control, her sense of helplessness flared up in her. Unwilling to further aid Augustus's demented torture, she lashed out in the only way she felt would end the torment. Grabbing the knife, she quickly jabbed it into the center of her wrist, dragging it upwards towards her elbow. As she withdrew the blade and looked at the flow of blood coming from her right forearm, she fainted as the blade dropped heavily at her side.

When Draco entered the room, he could not believe the horror that met his eyes. Pansy Parkinson was sitting perfectly still on the bed, her chest and arms covered in blood that had been drawn from her skin. Pushing back the memories of his own bloodied skin bearing similar markings left by Bellatrix's knife, he drew his wand and moved forward to where Augustus was bent over Hermione's body.

"So good of you to join us, Draco," Rookwood commented, as he carefully tended to a deep gash in Hermione's right arm. "Although Miss Granger insisted that you no longer resided here, I must say that I had a feeling you would be joining us."

Draco fought the urge to curse Augustus then and there, recognizing the severity of Hermione's wound as well as the wizard's skill in healing. "What did you do to them?" he asked instead, his voice forced steady through gritted teeth.

Augustus laughed openly as he cleaned Hermione's wound. "Now surely, my dear boy, you know me better than that. I take no pleasure in using such primitive measures with my guests. I can assure you that every drop of blood you see drawn here, was done so by Miss Granger herself."

Augustus cast a final spell, causing Hermione's wound to close, before standing to face Draco. "But now that Miss Granger has been healed and you have arrived, I really think that we should focus on my purpose for being here."

Draco gripped his wand tighter and moved to the side slowly. He wanted to minimize the likelihood that ay curses that he might throw at Augustus might go off target and hit Hermione instead. "I can assure you that I have no intentions of finding myself at your mercy again."

"Ahhh, the naivety of youth- the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And I, my dear boy, am the devil"

"That might be the case, but having been to hell and back, I can assure you that I will not be returning."

Augustus arched an eyebrow and looked at Draco. "As much as I enjoy this witty chatter, even I can admit when the time has come for action." Raising his wand in a flourish, the two wizards faced off as was traditional for a duel.

Draco and Rookwood were evenly matched. Both wizards knew a wide array of curses and were quick to anticipate their opponent's offensive attacks. Were anyone there to observe them, they might have almost believed the duel to be recreational with the ease and grace that the wizards moved throughout the room. Of course, the casting of illegal curses by both wizards would quickly correct that observation.

The wizards had been dueling for a quarter of an hour, neither having been hit with anything more harmful than a stunning spell. Draco had managed to back Augustus up into a corner of the bedroom when Hermione groaned from the bed and drew his attention.

Taking advantage of Draco's distraction, Augustus quickly cast a binding spell. "Oh dear, it appears as if your fate is damned after all," he stated, standing over Draco's petrified body with mock concern. "Surely you did not think you would escape atoning for Lucius's sins?"

"You see," a voice came from the doorway, "it's a funny thing about atonement and sin. A man cannot truly pay for another's transgressions," Ron Weasley said, before disarming Augustus and petrifying him.

"Malfoy, are you all right?" Harry called, crossing the room and ending the petrifying charm that had immobilized Draco. Harry's eyes widened in horror. Looking around the room, his eyes came across Pansy's bloodied form first before resting on Hermione, clutching at her scarred forearm.

"You bastard," Harry exclaimed, rising from Draco's side and crossing the room to stand over Rookwood. He stood shocked when Ron stripped him of his wand as he raised it to kill Augustus.

"Not this time, Harry," Ron stated, restraining Harry from physically squeezing the life out of Rookwood. "We- you've worked too hard to disregard the laws that govern our actions. We are Aurors. And as such, we cannot kill when there are other options present."

Harry looked up at Ron in disbelief. "Do you see what he did to them? How can you say that?"

Draco stood to move beside Hermione who was silently rocking back and forth as she grasped her forearm. Putting his arm around her, feeling the relief of her presence ebb and flow with the discomfort of her pain, he had ignored the two wizards debating over Augustus's incapacitated form.

"Malfoy," Harry called sharply, drawing the blond wizard's attention. "Ron here seems to think that what happens to Rookwood should be left to you."

Draco's thoughts swarmed anxiously as the meaning behind Harry's words sank in. Rookwood was restrained and they were going against protocol and allowing him to determine his fate. The months in captivity flew through his memory, the feeling of wanting to die standing out amidst all of the terror he had been forced to endure.

Smoothing back Hermione's hair, Draco stood to cross over before the man that had been his captor and tormentor for those more than two months of being held hostage. Augustus Rookwood had managed to imprison Draco's mind in a way that was far more damaging than Bellatrix's knives, Avery's fists, or the others' lustful natures. The only punishment that was fitting for him would be a lasting one.

"I do wish that the dementor's were still in the employ of the Ministry, as I think that the nightmares they might induce would be very fitting. But alas, I can only hope that living in a facility that bars your magical abilities for the rest of your life will prove to be even a fraction as torturous as my time spent in your care was. Potter, take him to your Ministry. I can no longer tolerate his stench."

Ron stood between Harry and Augustus. "I think that _I'll_ take him to the Ministry, Harry, I do believe that Draco intends for him to arrive very much alive. You take Pansy to St. Mungo's."

Raising an eyebrow at Draco, Ron added, "I do trust that Hermione will be safe in your care?"

Harry made to protest as he sat on the bed in front of Draco and leaned across Hermione's torso to stroke her hair. When she recoiled from his touch and into Draco's chest, he stood stoically and turned to Draco. "Owl us as soon as she's ready."

Once Draco and Hermione were alone in the flat, Draco swiftly removed the bed linens, banishing them to the fire before replacing them. Casting a cleansing smell on the room, the scent of blood and that of Augustus Rookwood was replaced by welcomed nothingness.

As Draco sat back down on the bed to again take Hermione in his arms, his hand absently stroked her hair as he felt the pace of her heartbeat calm.

Hermione felt relieved as she lay in Draco's arms, the warmth of his presence not replacing, but compensating for, the repulsion she felt as she remembered Pansy's disfigured body. Looking up into his eyes, she spoke, "H- he... He made me do that to Pansy. I wanted to- I tried to..." Hermione's voice faltered as the despair she had felt when she'd woken from Augustus's final Imperio came over her again. "Oh God, I wanted to die," she sobbed, before burying her head in Draco's chest.


	11. Ch 10 Breaking the Dam

**Disclaimer: **All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion

**Author's Note:** Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.

**Special Thanks:** Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.**

* * *

Chapter Ten – Breaking the Dam**

Draco held Hermione as she continued to sob against him. "I wanted to die," she repeated over and over, as her tears soaked into his cloak.

What does one say when someone admits that they longed for death? Draco could not dismiss it as a hysterical cry after a traumatic event. Hermione had not only longed for death, she had actively sought its comfort when she inserted the blade deep into her wrist and followed the trail of her body's conduit for life-giving blood.

Having no words of comfort, Draco simply wrapped his arms tighter around Hermione as he held her against his chest. He tried to allow the comfort that Hermione's presence afforded him to overshadow her hysterics. He knew the pain that she was in but could not allow himself to reflect on that now and so he simply held her tight as he gently rocked her back and forth.

It wasn't until Hermione's cries turned angry that Draco began to question his decision. Where she had lay contently before, Draco's arms now strained to hold her within his grasp. "I wanted to die. I wanted to _die_. I _wanted to die_, Malfoy," she chanted angrily, her arms fighting for freedom.

When Draco did not respond to her angry declaration, Hermione's body stilled and her voice dropped to an angry hiss. "I wanted to die, Malfoy, yet you let him walk away?" she questioned through gritted teeth.

Draco released Hermione at those words. He didn't even bother to shield his face as he saw her hand draw back to strike. As the force from her blow snapped his head to the side, her last words _'you let him walk away'_ reverberated in his head.

_'Did I make the right choice?'_ Draco questioned.

"After all that he's done to you, to Pansy, to me, how could you let him walk away like that? Can you imagine how it feels to know what one person has driven you to out of desperation? I was beyond desperation. I did not hesitate, when his mind slipped from mine, to seek death," the witch shouted angrily.

Hermione's words cut through Draco as surely as any blade could have. He could feel the tender wounds upon his soul that he had hoped were fully healed tear open, the flow of emotion running, coursing through him to ignite his own temper. Snatching Hermione's wrist to reveal her angry wound, Draco spat angrily, "Is this what has you so upset, Granger?

"No, I cannot say that I have been in the position to seek death. My captor was never so merciful as to afford me the opportunity to try and end my life. I was forced, instead, to lay in wait for them to tire of me, for them to forget about me.

"You forget easily. Do you not remember how I recoiled from your touch? So wrapped up in pointless rivalries, you assumed that my reluctance was due to your lineage. I wanted nothing more than someone to grant me death.

"For nearly two months, Granger. While you were back at Hogwarts, concerned with patrols and essays, Potter and Weasley, I lay silent for two bloody months. Silent as they raped me. Silent as they beat me. Silent as they sliced my skin for their amusement. The only time my silence was broken was when Rookwood came.

"Do you know what caused me to break my silence, Granger? I asked why he healed me," Draco answered without waiting for Hermione's reply. "I asked Augustus Rookwood, the man who promised me that I would be tormented until I surrendered even the hope of death, why he healed me. I wanted to die, with every fiber of my being, I longed for sweet nothingness to engulf my soul.

"I could only wish that a knife had been left in that dungeon. Even had he healed me, the possibility of death would have been welcomed. Instead, I was left with indescribable pain that went beyond anything physical and the promise that the next day would bring more of the same."

Silence engulfed the room when Draco quieted. Hermione looked into his glassy eyes in wonder. His eyes told her that he was telling the truth. Oh, she did know he'd wanted to die, but they had never spoken in such detail about his time spent in the Death Eater camp. It wasn't until now that she truly understood just how broken Draco Malfoy had been when he returned to Hogwarts.

As Draco gazed out into the room, his eyes focusing on the wall before him, Hermione could feel a drumming in her chest.

Willing his voice to remain steady, Draco spoke. "I could not kill him. Death is something precious, a tranquil reward. Augustus Rookwood does not deserve such a gift."

Where every one of Hermione's emotions had been laced with hatred for Rookwood and disgust towards Draco's decision minutes before, she now felt something different. Her hand reached out tentatively to the side of Draco's face.

As Hermione's hand neared Draco's cheek, she felt as if there were a force pulling them together. Stronger than the bond that necessitated their living arrangements, stronger than the magic that interrupted her sleep when they were apart, this force was so strong that she could not have stopped the momentum of her hand had she tried.

Draco's shoulders relaxed when Hermione's hand touched his cheek. He felt the warmth of her hand radiate through him, stirring something from deep within. As they responded to each other's touch, currents of heat passed between them in time with their heartbeats, the magically charged energy cleansing them both of the angry words that had been exchanged.

Draco argued within himself even as his hand rose to cup Hermione's cheek, mimicking her own action. This was wrong, the timing was wrong. Hermione had witnessed the hell that was Augustus Rookwood not an hour ago, yet the burning in his veins was insistent.

He did not doubt any longer what drew him to Hermione. Draco wasn't sure that he ever truly questioned the legacy that had been passed through his father's blood. The bond that called to the both of them was something real and pure. An ancient magic that would not accept denial and it now called for their submission.

"We shouldn't," Draco started.

Hermione raised her hand to hold his against her cheek. "Why not?"

"Augustus-"

"...is gone."

"You wanted to-"

"But I'm alive," Hermione answered, leaning in towards Draco.

Even as he sought to resist her with his words, his body would not betray his heart in their actions.

"We should wait," he replied, even as he leaned in to meet her lips.

Once their lips met, their bodies were flooded with a torrent of emotion. Washed away in the flood was every pretense, every rivalry, every triviality that had prevented them from seeking the comfort of each other's arms up until this moment.

Their kiss was unhurried as their lips moved carefully against one another. Draco deliberately traced the silky contours of Hermione's lips, mentally noting the contour of every curve and crevice that crossed his path.

Hermione responded by drawing his lower lip between her own, sucking slowly as she measured his response to her ministrations, her hands making their way behind his head, her fingers threading themselves in Draco's sleek platinum mane.

Moving his arms about Hermione's waist, Draco pulled her close until he could feel the pleasant weight of her body against his. Never in his life had a kiss made him feel so completed. It was as if he had been hopping for eighteen years and suddenly discovered that he had another limb upon which to stand.

His thumbs played upon her lower back as their tongues met. Draco moaned as the remnants of chocolate and butterbeer in her mouth collided with his taste buds. They demanded more. Her touch was scintillating, her taste intoxicating. As Draco feasted upon Hermione, every fiber in his being called out for more.

When Hermione felt the vibrations upon her lips from Draco's moan, signals blazed across synapses to the pleasure receptors of her brain. She had tried to deny it for too long, but here in his arms, his thumbs raising goose bumps beneath her top as they drew endless circles on her back, the rest of his fingers resting just atop the curve of her rear, Hermione knew that all she could do was surrender.

Pulling away from Draco, Hermione freed her hands from his hair to run them down the side of his jaw, to his shoulders, until they came to rest on his chest. Looking him in the eye as she moved her fingers to the first button on his robe, Hermione gasped as Draco's left hand plundered into the mass of curls at the nape of her neck. She offered no resistance as he pulled on her hair to reveal the gentle bow between her chin and collar bone.

Hurriedly opening the buttons that sealed flesh from her hands, Hermione's chest heaved as his tongue traced her neck from its base to just below her ear. Her hands thrust inside of his partially opened robe, savoring the oneness she felt as his arms surrounded her and the heat of his body greeted her probing hands.

Draco felt Hermione's fingers graze his spine as they raised the hem of his jumper; he drew the lobe of her ear into his mouth. Emboldened by her initiative, he allowed the hand resting at the base of her spine to move to her side, subtly slipping beneath the soft fleece barring her flesh from him.

Hermione's responsiveness was exquisite, the hiss of air leaving her mouth as his hand alighted just off center of her torso. As his thumb began to lazily slide back and forth, its tip brushing against the cotton of her bra, Draco's hips moved forward in response as Hermione arched her back, thrusting her chest forward.

Stretching his body, Draco rolled Hermione onto her side, his body following hers so that they lay flush beside one another. His lips left her ear, seeking again the comfort of her mouth. Their hands lightly danced against one another's skin, delighting in the currents of energy that flowed at every juncture of their bodies, their mouths stoking the flames that danced through their veins.

As the current of raw emotion coursed through them, it moved as if on a wave approaching shore. Rising and falling as it crashed against the flesh that was yet un-chartered, cresting higher as their kisses grew more fervent, seeking the momentum needed to break through skin untouched. As their need was amplified, so were their caresses and kisses that began so carefully.

When Draco sucked Hermione's tongue into his mouth insistently, she responded by sliding her hands from behind his back to slide up the length of his torso. Draco groaned as her fingernails raked back down, dragging deliberately across his nipples.

Pleased with his response, Hermione freed her tongue from his mouth before taking his bottom lips between her teeth. "I want to hear you do that again," she mumbled, before releasing his lip to explore his throat. Sucking lightly as her tongue lapped at the juncture of his throat and jaw, Hermione again dragged her fingernails across his nipples.

Draco's response was automatic, the hand that had rested just below Hermione's ribcage moving upward as the one tangled in her hair fisted, the action showing his desire for her. Lightly brushing his thumb over Hermione's cloth covered nipple, Draco felt his own desire flare as she shuddered, her hot breath warm against his neck.

The rise and fall of Hermione's chest quickened, the softness of her breast inviting as she leaned into Draco's touch, wanting to taste, touch, and feel more. "Mmmmm," she moaned when his shoulders stiffened as she slid her leg between his, allowing her shin to brush between his legs. Frustrated by the restraint that Draco's partially opened robe offered her wandering hands, Hermione groaned, "Lose the bloody robe."

Draco ignored Hermione's pleas, driven by his own desire to explore her body, so willing and responsive beneath his touch. Releasing her hair, Draco lifted the hem of her sweat shirt to reveal the soft mounds of her chest, the stark whiteness of their covering contrasting against the creamy pillows straining to spill out of the top.

Lowering his head to lick the crease formed between the top of her breasts, Draco slid his fingers underneath the bottom of her bra, shifting his palms to cup her bare flesh within its confines.

Hermione inhaled, the smell of almond flooding her senses as Draco's hair tickled her nose. Kissing the top of his head, she threw her left leg over his hips, pulling him closer into her. Her hands tugged desperately at the buttons depriving her of unhindered access to Draco.

When the first button popped from his robe, Draco groaned, grinding his hips against Hermione's thigh as he used the leverage of his hands to roll the restrictive lingerie guarding her breasts from his eyes and mouth, out of the way.

Moaning as his lips found her nipple, Hermione jerked, her hands pulling forcefully, sending the offending buttons that remained to hinder her exploration, pinging across the room.

Draco groaned as her hands grazed the front of his trousers. Her touch cautious yet confident stirred a mix of emotions as he suckled her teats, a small cry resembling a whimper escaping as she sought to free him from his pants.

Reluctantly, Draco pulled his lips from Hermione, allowing his teeth to graze her nipples lightly before he seized her hands, pulling them close to his chest.

"We should stop, Hermione," Draco asserted, looking deeply into the vibrant warmth of her brown eyes. He could see the questioning in their shining depths and raised her hands to his lips to gently kiss each knuckle.

Hermione's eyes softened at the show of affection and she pulled a hand free to cup the side of his face. "Can you Draco? Can you stop now?"

Draco's resolve faltered as jolts of electricity seemed to leap from Hermione's hand upon his cheek.

"I know that I can't. I don't want to," Hermione continued, leaning up to press her lips against his jaw. She inhaled deeply, trying to layer this memory with his smell, his touch, and the peculiar blend of salty sweetness that invaded her mouth as she laved at his neck.

"But you're a- I mean you've never-" Draco stammered, not knowing how to broach the subject of her presumed innocence, subtlety not being a virtue that he was known for.

Pulling Draco's hands back around her waist, Hermione looked into his eyes. The uncertainty held within the silver pools startling as she watched him struggle between desire and chivalry. Using her hands, Hermione guided his face until she knew that he was focused on her eyes. "I've dreamed this for longer than I care to admit, Draco. For once, I want to wake up to find that the dream hasn't ended."

Draco didn't consider himself to be a romantic, subject to weakened resolve by a woman's wiles, but Hermione's words melted any remaining armor that had steeled his resolve.

There were no words left to be said and so Draco acted on impulse, his hands moving to the clasp at Hermione's back, stripping her of the bra that protected her abandoned modesty. He felt the weight of her breasts fall against his chest and sought out her throat, gathering several curls and twining them around his fingers as he tugged at her tresses.

When Hermione slid her hands into Draco's sleeves, he surrendered to her will, allowing her to slide the garment completely off of him. Leaning into her, Draco caught Hermione's lips in a soft kiss, again losing his left hand amidst the tangle of her curls as he guided her onto her back. His lips glided down her neck as he pulled the hem of her top up. Once her flesh was revealed, his hands caressed and teased her breasts as his lips planted kisses across her torso.

Hermione's back arched off of the bed, Draco's feathery kisses enticing yet tickling her. A fire simmered in her belly as his palms grazed the flat peaks on her chest. When he lifted his head and moved his hands to remove her top entirely from her torso, Hermione took the opportunity to do the same.

Gasping as Hermione pulled his bare chest against her own, Draco gladly shifted his weight, centering himself atop of her as her legs spread, inviting him to settle between them. They both felt compelled to eliminate all barriers making them two as opposed to one, the fire building inside of them threatening to consume all that was in its path.

When Draco slid down Hermione's torso, taking her sweat pants and panties as his tongue lapped at her thighs, knees, calves, and toes, Hermione felt more secure than she had in her entire life. Lying beneath Draco, every artifice stripped from her, she felt complete. She had no doubt that this was where she was meant to be.

His tongue met her core and the floodgates of her passion threatened to break. Clawing at his shoulders, Hermione urged Draco back atop her, panting in anticipation as he lifted his hips to pull down the last remaining barrier to their coupling. When he settled back over her, his arousal grazing her own desire, their gazes locked, Hermione's senses saturated in a stream of warmth and light as he pierced her, the dam to her soul breaking down in a flood of ecstasy.

When they fell into slumber, Draco and Hermione were wrapped tight in each other's arms and a blanket of contentment. If their worst night's sleep had been discovered in the past weeks due to their self-imposed separation, the slumber that greeted them could only be described as the best. Free from troubling dreams, or unfulfilled fantasies, they slept, taking comfort in the serenity that flowed between them.


	12. Ch 11 Healing Remedies

**Disclaimer: **All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion

**Author's Note:** Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.

**Special Thanks:** Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

**

* * *

Chapter Eleven – Healing Remedies**

When Draco and Hermione awoke the next morning, the first thought that crossed their minds was the disbelief that they had truly spent the night together. Having spent months tormented by dreams of the other, the dreams only worsening during their separation, they had spent many a morning confronted by the cold face of reality.

Before they could turn to face the other, a voice greeted them. "I see that you took care of her last night, Malfoy," Ron Weasley bit out, trying to hold his temper at finding his best friend naked in the arms of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione's eyes flew wide open, realization dawning as she grasped the covers to pull the tightly to her chin. She felt mortified. Ron walking in to find her with Draco was nearly as horrifying as her father doing the same. Considering his protective nature, she wasn't sure that even her father could have reacted any worse than Ron.

"Malfoy, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I even kept Harry from returning last night when I saw how Hermione recoiled from his touch. But, to take advantage of her after all that she went through last night, I wouldn't have expected that little from even you," Ron finished, his voice echoing off of the walls of the bedroom.

Draco stood from the bed, not bothering to cover his nakedness, rather strolling out of the room, hissing, "Weasley, I do not have to defend myself to you, but I will not have this conversation in front of Hermione. As you so astutely pointed out, she has been through quite enough."

Hermione watched as her best friend turned his eyes back into the room. A shooting pain pierced through her center as she saw the look of disappointment flash before his eyes, despite his promise. "I'll be in to check on you."

Hermione wasn't ashamed of last night. She hadn't been unduly influenced by Draco. Those few moments this morning, when she had realized that it was Draco's heart beating next to her own, had been nearly as fantastic as when he'd taken her over the crest of ecstasy time and time again last night. No, her feelings stood now as they had last night. She belonged with Draco. Months of trying to deny her feelings had done nothing more than bring them both misery. It was time to face reality.

"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, show some decency and cover yourself," Hermione heard Ron exclaim from the neighboring room. Knowing her best friend's temper as well as her- her what- her lover? Yes, Draco Malfoy was now her lover. And as much as she loved Ron and, well, cared for Draco, she knew the two of them could not be trusted alone for more than five minutes, especially not when Ron had just walked in on her and Draco lying naked in each other's arms.

Looking back on that moment, Draco would have given anything to take back the foolish words he had uttered. He wasn't sure why he and Weasley seemed to, so effectively, inflame the other. It had taken some time, but Potter and he had found some semblance of cordiality, but not he and Ron.

Draco's blood boiled when Weasley started in on him and his despicable treatment of "the only witch worth a Knut left in his life; the only respectable witch that was willing to give him another chance."

He couldn't admit to Ron that he had fallen so hopelessly in love with Hermione that he couldn't breathe properly when they were apart. He certainly would not admit to repeatedly trying to dissuade Hermione from their lovemaking. Draco was, despite all that had happened in his life, still a Malfoy. Not known for weakness, confessions of love, nor tolerating incessant prying into his personal matters, and so he responded as such.

"Do stop your drivel, Weasley," he drawled, affixing a smirk as he fingered his wand with one hand and raked through his hair with the other. "I _can_ certainly appreciate your disappointment that I have yet again been afforded a pleasure that you will never know, but I can assure you that you have underestimated Hermione yet again. Her performance was certainly worth more than a mere Knut."

If only Draco had known that Hermione had quickly slipped on her robe to follow the wizards into the common area of the flat; how would he have reacted were he to know that she had fully intended to assure her friend that she was exactly where she wanted to be? But Draco did not know that, just as Hermione did not know that only his foolish pride summoned his callous remarks. Pride that was unable to allow Ron Weasley to see what he had shown Hermione last night - his love.

"I certainly hope you feel as if you've gotten your money's worth Malfoy," Hermione spat angrily. Tears threatened to well in her eyes but she willed them away. He had already made a fool of her once. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Returning to her room to hurriedly dress, Hermione summoned a small bag and packed some personal items inside. The last words she spoke before leaving had been, "I expect that you will have the flat cleared of _all_ personal effects by tomorrow evening. Do not return."

That had been eight months ago. Roughly the same time period that they had spent resisting their mutual attraction, they had spent yet again separated due to his foolish words.

When Draco returned to his post within the Department of Mysteries, it quickly became evident how little interaction was required between he and Hermione, despite their shared workload. Where as before, they would approach their research as a team, spending countless hours in the library exchanging ideas and theories, Hermione had now taken a divide and conquer approach. Their communication was done via owls or memos, meetings taking place only when they needed to consult with their superiors over an issue.

While their prior self-imposed separation had left Draco feeling empty, with an eternal longing for the comfort of her presence, it had been tolerable. What he was feeling now however was unbearable. He saw her in passing within the department and took note that, despite looking tired, Hermione looked just as healthy as ever. Draco, however, could feel all of his energy draining from him.

He knew, of course, what the source of his agony was. It was the ancient magic that flowed through his veins. And while the arms of another witch who might find him interesting would likely release Hermione and himself from their magical bond, he refused to surrender the hope of making her his so long as he saw evidence that she was still troubled by nightmares, still feeling the pain of his absence in her life.

After four months, Draco had been too ill to continue working full days within the Ministry. Arranging to work from his study in the Manor, equipped with a number of reputable archaic sources from which to research, Draco continued to suffer in the hopes that Hermione would surrender to her longing and send for him.

Of course, that did not happen. Not the determined, prideful, Hermione Granger. _'No,'_ Draco reasoned with himself, _'you betrayed a trust which she is not likely to soon forget.'_ That was when he realized he could very well die waiting for Hermione to return to him.

They continued to correspond via owl, Hermione taking the initiative to assign and prioritize different aspects of their research before sending him an itemized schedule of their mutual responsibilities.

As Draco's health deteriorated, he realized that he had to find a way to get her to speak to him again. If nothing more than to see for himself that her pride was stronger than her longing, he would see her again. And so, he began to question her assignments, at times revising the schedule to send her back the more mundane tasks that she had assigned him. While the tone of their correspondence certainly became less cordial and professional, still she did not request a meeting.

It had been three months ago when Draco first collapsed. The house-elf, Tipsy, had discovered him keeled over in his chair, the parchment containing Hermione's revised schedule at his feet. When he awoke three days later, he found himself in his bedchambers, tended to by the matronly elf.

"What's happened?" he questioned Tipsy, his voice cracking as the words made their way out of his dry mouth.

"Master Malfoy. Tipsy found you at your desk. We were so worried, master; we thought you was dead, we did. But Tipsy found you; Tipsy healed you."

Draco shook his head as the house-elf's incessant chatter assaulted his ears. "Very well, Tipsy, if you would fetch me some tea I think I will rest alone," he replied dismissively.

"Of course, master," the eager elf chirruped, bowing her head before disappearing from the room.

As Draco rubbed at the throbbing above his eyes, he realized that it was not only the chatter from the house-elf that had offended his senses. The curtain in his chambers was parted slightly, allowing a bright light of early morning sun to shine across the room. _'Had he been unconscious through the night?_' Draco wondered. It had been late afternoon when he had received Hermione's owl and sat to consider what additional revisions he could offer in an effort to bait her.

"How long have I been sleep?" Draco questioned Tipsy when she returned with his requested tea.

"Oh sir, it has been three days since Tipsy found you. You were very ill. If you did not wake today, we was going to ask Dobby at Hogwarts to send Professor Snape to see you, we was!"

_'Three days?'_ Draco mentally exclaimed. He had been unconscious for three whole days. "Did anyone call during my rest?"

"No sir, no one has called. The Ministry post came regularly, they did. Yesterday, Sita told Tipsy she banished a dozen howlers to the dungeons."

Draco thanked the elf again for her assistance before dismissing her from his presence with orders to not be disturbed before supper, unless summoned. How had his life become so impossibly complicated? Two years ago, he wouldn't have been concerned that he could disappear for three days without arousing concern. Two years ago, the furthest thing from his mind would have been whether Hermione Granger had noticed his absence. But now, that was all he could think of.

Hermione had, in fact, noticed his absence, addressing the matter in a flurry of owls. When her correspondence went unanswered for two days, she had sent a dozen howlers the following day. She suspected that his resistance to her research schedules was an attempt to lure her into meeting with him again. She had been patient when confronted with his endless revisions, but ignoring her was taking things too far. If Draco Malfoy wanted to meet with her this badly, then she would gladly oblige.

When she arrived at Malfoy Manor, she had been in no mood to deal with the kowtowing of his house-elves. She had gained some notoriety among them due to her earlier attempts at liberating the creatures. And while many were wary of her, there were others that were also aware of her participation in the war and admired her compassion, if not her causes.

Tipsy, it seemed, was one of these elves. Despite Hermione's patient efforts to enquire as to Draco's whereabouts, the elf continued to chatter on. "Tipsy is very pleased to be meeting such a kind and gentle spirit; Tipsy has heard of Miss Granger's compassion; we elves at Malfoy Manor respect Miss who saved our master".

Unable to maintain her composure any longer, Hermione simply brushed past Tipsy and let herself into the Manor. "Draco Malfoy," she called, her voice echoing off of the walls in the nearly abandoned manor.

"Oh no, Miss," Tipsy hurriedly approached Hermione, "the master is not well. He does not wish to be disturbed."

_'I bet he doesn't,'_ Hermione thought, as she considered the onslaught of verbal accolades she had been subjected to since her arrival at the Manor. "I must speak with Mr. Malfoy today. I have tried contacting him by more conventional methods, but his non-response has forced me to call upon him."

The house-elf appeared nervous, as if her body was trying to move in multiple directions at one time. Hermione watched as Tipsy reached for a large paperweight on the desk in the foyer before moving towards the staircase. "Miss, Tipsy will see. Wait here," she ordered, as she hurriedly climbed the staircase, thrusting the paperweight against her forehead in penance.

Hermione decided to follow Tipsy, not wishing to risk being turned away from the Manor without giving Draco a piece of her mind. When the house-elf approached the room, Hermione spoke loudly, saving the elf from disobeying her master and disturbing him. "Draco Malfoy, why have you not returned my letters?"

That had been three months ago. Three months ago when Hermione looked into the room to find Draco, lying defeated in his bedchamber, his pale skin and slight frame validating Tipsy's testament to his health.

In that moment, Hermione forgot the anger and hurt she had felt towards Draco, choosing instead to rush to his side. "What's happened to you, Malfoy?"

Draco considered telling her the truth then. He wanted her back at any cost. But as he considered the distinct possibility of her fleeing from him, feeling even more used than when she overheard him speaking to Weasley, he chose instead to remain silent.

When Hermione insisted that they contact a healer to address his illness, Draco had protested, instead agreeing that she could conduct her own research. Truly, he was pleased that Hermione would be investigating his illness. He could only hope that she might come across his ailment on her own. If she had to find out, he didn't want to risk her believing that he had taken advantage of her. Having the facts presented in some medical text would alleviate him of that concern.

But over the months, Hermione had not discovered what was ailing him. Despite the fact that they were again spending time together, Draco's health was steadily failing him. They had triggered the magic and mere proximity would no longer be enough to satisfy his need.

It had been two weeks ago that Hermione informed Draco she had contacted their old Potions master in hopes that he could provide a brew to slow whatever ailment was tormenting him. Draco considered again telling her the truth, but could not bring himself to do so as he observed the genuine concern in her brown eyes. He knew that this had gone too far. Severus would not be receptive to such a disregard for his time, were he to learn of Draco's deception. But Severus was no longer his Head of House. Draco was a Slytherin and would use every form of trickery and deceit to get what he wanted. And Merlin, he wanted Hermione.

A week after Draco tried Severus's first experimental brew, Draco again fell into a state of unconsciousness. Hermione took leave from work and administered the different remedies that the Potions master concocted, in the hopes of reviving the young wizard. When Draco woke, not to the familiar chatter of Tipsy, but to warm brown eyes, shining with tears, his heart nearly exploded with emotion.

_'Am I to die before she'll have me?'_ he asked himself, as she sponged his forehead and engaged him in meaningless banter.

"So, once again I find myself at the mercy of Nurse Granger," Draco stated, attempting to lace his voice with sarcasm, but his heart weakening the attempt.

Her response had been more than he could have hoped for, more than he could have dreamed. Her words effectively, if not literally, conveyed her forgiveness.

"As I recall, it wasn't so bad last time. I only saved your life, after all," she continued, sitting back in her chair, her hand still stroking his hair.

Draco swallowed the potion that she held to his lips. As the burning passed down his esophagus, it gave him the necessary steel to admit to her the truth. "And yet, you will be the death of me," he responded simply without dramatics, turning to lock her gaze into his own.

Hermione's eyes flashed momentarily, darting from side to side, showing her confusion. "You can't mean the- the-" she trailed off, the wheels of her mind turning as she considered the meaning behind his words. "Surely if that were the cause, I too would be ill."

Draco's lips turned upward slightly into a rare smile. "Ahh, but you are Muggle-born, whereas I am part Veela," he replied, anticipating her next commentary. "Yes, full Veelas are female, but certain protections are passed onto male progeny."

Hermione's gaze hardened slightly as she continued to look at Draco, bidding him to continue with his eyes.

"When a male carrying Veela blood is in danger of not being able to procreate, certain magic charms are enacted. It is very rare that this occurs, as Malfoy's tend to marry quite young. However, in my case, the trauma I experienced while held in captivity was substantial enough for the magical protections to take effect."

Hermione sat silently, digesting the information that she had just been presented. "Alright, Malfoy, so because of the danger to the Malfoy line, somehow we were brought together through this magical bond. Why me?"

"That's hard to answer. I imagine from my perspective, as you were the first person to have shown me kindness in so long, I could not have trusted another."

"You said from your perspective, what do you mean?"

"Hermione, I know this is hard to digest, but the magical bonds created do not impose themselves above free will. Were you not somehow attracted to me, the initial reactions would have faded swiftly. The magic is there to assist two suitable mates to expedite their likely union. It is not there to force another to surrender against their will."

"But, we've already been intimate, Malfoy. Why now; shouldn't that have been enough to satisfy the magic?"

"Quite the contrary, our joining was likened unto a marriage contract, a contract that has yet to be filled or nullified. After that union, the magic that flows through my veins will not be satisfied until the conception of an heir. There are, of course, other options that could be pursued. I could seek another witch to satisfy the demands of my blood."

Hermione's eyes crinkled at Draco's last statement, "You could, but didn't; why not? Surely there are a number of witches that would be happy to marry into the Malfoy legacy."

Draco studied her face carefully, looking for some sign that would indicate how his words would be received. Finding none, he shouldered on. "You are right, Hermione. I could have had my pick of witches. As to why not, quite simply none of them were you.

"I cannot tell you how I regret what I said to Weasley that morning. I allowed my distaste for him to overshadow my affection for you and talked about you as if you meant nothing more to me than a good shag.

"If I could take it all back, I would have warded the flat myself that evening and kept you in bed for a week straight. That night spent with you was the best night of my life. Despite the physical pleasures that we shared, you touched my soul with your kiss and that is not something that I can easily forget.

"I have not sought out another, because I know the magic that runs in my veins. I've seen that your nights are still interrupted by nightmares, that you have not cast me out of your heart. If you had, then I would not still haunt your dreams. How could I possibly seek another, when the one who has already branded me as her own holds me still in her heart?"

Hermione remained speechless as she studied Draco's eyes. The light that reflected in the tears that had settled above his lenses radiated the truth of his words. "You idiot," she scoffed unexpectedly, slapping his shoulder, "you arrogant, foolish, stupid jackass!"

Draco's face frowned in confusion at her outburst. He had prepared himself for rejection, had hoped for pardon, but had not anticipated this slew of name-calling.

"Do you mean to tell me that you not only let me believe that you thought little more of me than a high priced whore, but have resigned yourself to death, as well? Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, before falling upon him. "If you knew all of this time that I still yearned for you, surely you had to know I would take you back? How could I not? You were not the only one who was touched that night. No matter how hard I've tried, I cannot erase your touch, taste, or smell from my dreams."

Draco took Hermione in his arms, warmth flooding him, masking the pain that had set into his body in the past months. "I don't know why I doubted you, perhaps because I know that I don't deserve you. I feared you would think that you had been trapped under some 'ancient spell' against your will."

"You mean, kind of like I have been," she asked, chuckling lightly before allowing him to pull her lips to his.

Their kiss was every bit as explosive as the first and Draco could feel his blood begin to boil in anticipation of receiving her love, yet again. As Hermione's hands splayed on his chest, running across his shirt, generating a warmth and friction that increased the energy between them, Draco forced himself to pull from her kiss.

"Hermione, consider your actions carefully. I don't want you to surrender in an act of pity. The blood in my veins calls for a child. The consequences of tonight will be life altering, no matter what your choice."

Smiling seductively, Hermione grinned, "Performance anxiety? I would have never expected it from you."

Draco's face remained serene as he gazed into her eyes, his love for the witch hitting him with a clarity he had never known before. "Hermione, I can assure you that the only anxiety I am experiencing is the fear that you will refuse me. But I promise that, if you accept me as your own, I will strive to exceed every expectation you have set for me. I love you, Hermione Granger."

Hermione looked into Draco's passionate eyes to see nothing but love. Unable to form words worthy of his soul-baring confession, to see him bare, exposed and vulnerable, stirred the love that she had tried to deny for so long. Hermione kissed him briefly before sitting up to pull her jumper over her head.

"Draco Malfoy, I offer you my heart, body, and soul. In baring my flesh to you, I reveal my all. Take me as your helpmate. I promise to love, cherish, and protect you always. From my flesh, may your heirs be born, from my heart may our family be loved, from my strength may our union flourish."

Draco's eyes looked upon Hermione's naked form as she completed the words to the oldest bonding ritual known to wizard kind. Her intentions plain, his heart quickened as he reached for the hem of his jumper.

"Hermione Granger, I accept your promise. To you I pledge my heart, body, and soul. In revealing my flesh to you I am giving you my all. I promise to love, cherish, and protect you always. From my seed may our children grow, from my hands may our lives be fruitful, from my strength may our family remain safe."

As he sat before her naked, Draco welcomed the comforting weight of Hermione's body as she lay out above him. As she offered him the palms of her hands, he took them, lacing her fingers with his own. As Draco entered Hermione, they spoke as one.

"We pledge our lives to one another before the gods on earth and above. May you bless this union and find it pleasing in your eyes as we honor you with our love."

Their union complete, Hermione and Draco were sated in both love and passion; Draco felt the life-giving energy from Hermione's womb. As he looked upon his bride with adoration, Draco moved his hand to her stomach, amazed by the perfection of Hermione's healing remedies.


	13. Epilogue To Hear You Scream

**Disclaimer: **All characters presented in the fic are the property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion

**Author's Note:** Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.

**Special Thanks:** Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhashmekashefah for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

* * *

**Epilogue – To Hear You Scream**

Hermione Malfoy groaned. Today her son was headed for his first year of study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and her infernal body prevented her from escorting him to the train.

"I'll have you know, Malfoy, it is your fault that I am being denied seeing my son off on the Hogwarts Express."

Draco chuckled at his wife. After a night of quiet lovemaking, Hermione had awakened only to find that she was again with child. After ten years of wedded bliss with their son, they had both assumed that they would follow in Malfoy tradition with only one son born of their union. But when she awoke, unable to even sit up in bed without her husband's aid, there was no questioning her condition.

"And I'll have _you_ know Hermione, this is as disconcerting for me as it is you. Today _would have _marked the first day of our marriage where I could take you where and how I wanted without concern for the boy's prying ears.

Hermione folded her arms across her chest in disgust. "I am rendered helpless for the next nine months and you want to complain because you want to make me scream?" she asked, her voice rising in pitch. "Draco Malfoy, if you do not take your leave and get my son to King's Cross Station so he can be properly sorted into _Gryffindor_ tonight, I will assure you that you will hear more screaming than you have bargained for."

Draco smiled and bent to kiss his wife. "Yes dear," he replied defeated. "While I'm out do you want me to pick you up anything?"

Hermione told her husband about a book she had put on order in Diagon Alley, before he took his leave. "Even Muggles know that a woman can be active up until her last months of pregnancy; this curse is positively primitive," she mused out loud, before closing her eyes, settling for a lie in as she could do little else.

When Draco returned from Diagon Alley, he fixed Hermione a glass of pumpkin juice as well as some biscuits. "Your book was not in yet, love," he drawled, as he offered her the refreshments, sitting at her side.

Hermione sipped on the juice before setting it and the biscuits beside the bed. "Draco, you do know that this is ridiculous. Are you positive there's no way to break the restrictions on this curse?"

Lying down beside her, Draco kissed her lightly on the lips before stroking her belly. "I'm afraid not until nature has taken its course. I had so looked forward to having you to myself today."

Hermione smiled slightly as his thumb stroked her belly. "As did I," she sighed, remembering the passionate love they had made once their first child had been born.

"You're right; I did want to hear you scream," Draco drawled, pressing his lips to her ear as his hand moved to the side of her face.

Hermione sighed before moving his hand from her and shrinking back from his touch. "Don't do this, Draco. You and I both know that both of us will feel more miserable for it in the end."

Draco raised his eyebrows, a smile playing at his lips, "I wouldn't be sure of that, love. The curse prevents me from making love to you, but to my knowledge it doesn't prevent you from granting yourself release."

Hermione gasped at her husband's brazen suggestion. "Draco Malfoy, what on earth are you suggesting?"

"Don't you remember how it feels when my hands drop to between your thighs?" he asked, as he loosened his trousers, seeking to alleviate his own arousal.

"I love you, Hermione: your intelligence, your compassion, your strength, and your passion. Show me your passion, Hermione," Draco implored as his lips suckled on her earlobe.

Their house stood silent, free of the footfalls of an excitable eleven year-old-boy. Sharing in an act as intimate as that which had bound them into marriage, Draco Malfoy groaned in pleasure as Hermione's screams filled their home.


End file.
